Just factual.
“I’m glad.”
Daniel gestured toward the dining table.
“Can we sit?”
We did.
For years, I had served meals at that table.
Birthdays.
Thanksgiving.
Tuesday spaghetti.
Sunday pancakes.
Now a folder sat between us.
Daniel had brought his copy.
I had brought mine.
He looked at the pages.
“So Peter had them.”
“Yes.”
“You called him.”
“Yes.”
Daniel nodded.
“I found our copy after we got back.”
Rebecca folded her hands.
“I had forgotten the addendum.”
“So had I,” I said.
Her eyes lifted.
That seemed to surprise her.
“You did?”
“I remembered the loan. I didn’t remember it became due when I moved out.”
Daniel leaned back.
“This creates a problem.”
“I understand.”
“Eighty-five thousand dollars is not something we can produce next week.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
Rebecca looked at me carefully.
“But legally you could.”
“Peter says the agreement allows ninety days.”
Daniel gave a humorless laugh.
“That doesn’t make it much easier.”
“No.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“Why didn’t you tell us before you moved?”
“Because I didn’t remember.”
“And if you had?”
I considered it.
“I still would have moved.”
His face tightened.
“But you might have warned us.”
“Yes.”
That was true.
He looked surprised by my answer.
I had no interest in pretending I had behaved perfectly simply because I had been hurt first.
“I should have told you I was leaving before I hired movers,” I said. “I made that decision while I was angry.”
“You didn’t seem angry on the phone.”
“I was.”
Rebecca looked at the folder.
“You were hurt.”
“Yes.”
She nodded slowly.
For the first time since I arrived, something in her expression changed.
The defensiveness faded.
“I’m sorry about Hawaii.”
Daniel glanced toward her.
Rebecca continued.
“Not because you moved out. Not because of the loan. I’m sorry because we should have asked you.”
I had imagined an apology many times over the previous days.
In all of them, I felt immediate relief.
Reality was different.
“I appreciate that.”
She looked disappointed.
Perhaps she had expected forgiveness to arrive faster.
Perhaps I had too.
Daniel said, “I’m sorry too.”
“I know.”
“No, Mom. I mean it.”
“I believe you.”
“Then why does it feel like you’re still angry?”
“Because an apology does not erase four years in ten seconds.”
He looked down.
The room became quiet.
