I need you to take Caleb to the dentist at two. I need you to pick up my dry cleaning. I need you to be here Saturday because we’re going to Scottsdale Fashion Square.
Ezoic
Daniel stopped thanking me.
He started assuming.
He’d come home at seven. Walk into the kitchen. Look at the stove.
“What’s for dinner, Mom?”
Not thank you. Not you didn’t have to.
What’s for dinner.
I told myself it was fine.
I told myself this is what family does.
Ezoic
I told myself I was earning my keep.
Earning my keep.
I’d never thought about it that way until I heard myself think it.
I was seventy years old. A widow. Living in a casita by a pool. Earning my keep.
Ezoic
One afternoon in July, I overheard something.
I was walking down the hall. Carrying a basket of folded towels. To put in the linen closet outside their bedroom.
