Her voice hardened.

“Then what are we supposed to do?”

“You have the list.”

“That list?”

“Yes. That list.”

“We shouldn’t have to hire people when we have children.”

Mark went silent.

Then Patricia finally asked the question beneath everything else.

“Who’s going to take care of us?”

He looked tired rather than angry.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Mom.”

She said nothing.

Then he added softly, “You always said I could.”

After the call, he stared at his phone.

“That sounded better in my head.”

“Do you regret saying it?”

He rubbed his face.

“I regret that it was true.”

Chapter 4

Three months after we moved, all three Bennett children returned to Ohio for Richard’s birthday.

Patricia had told everyone they needed to “sit down as a family.”

For once, Susan, Rebecca, and Mark agreed, though not quite for the reason she imagined.

Dinner remained peaceful for about an hour.

Richard opened gifts, Rebecca showed pictures of her son’s battered first car, and we ate roast beef before Patricia brought out the cake.

Then, somewhere between cake and coffee, she looked at Mark.

“I wish you lived closer. It’s been very difficult on us since you decided Colorado was more important than family.”

Susan stopped stirring her coffee.

Mark set down his fork.

Richard murmured, “Patty.”

“What? It’s true.”

“No,” Susan said.

She opened a folder she had brought.

“Do you know how many appointments Mark took you and Dad to last year?”

Patricia frowned. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Twenty-three.”

Mark looked at his sister.

Apparently, even he hadn’t known she had counted.

“That doesn’t include physical therapy, pharmacy runs, car dealerships, paperwork, or house repairs,” Susan continued.

Patricia stiffened. “You’ve been keeping score.”

“No,” Susan said. “That’s the problem. Nobody was.”

Rebecca leaned forward.

“When I stayed here, I spent almost two full days figuring out bills, passwords, appointments, and Dad’s prescriptions.”

Richard frowned. “My prescriptions are not complicated.”

Rebecca looked at him. “Dad, you had blood-pressure pills inside a Tylenol bottle.”

“The bottle was easier to open.”

“Thank you for proving my point.”

Even Richard smiled.

Patricia didn’t.

“So now I’m the villain because I trusted my own son?”

Mark shook his head.

“Trusting me and assigning me are different things.”

“I never assigned you anything.”

“You texted appointment times.”