I was watering the hydrangeas on the front porch when she stepped out, wrapping her cardigan tightly around herself. She had perfectly applied makeup, yet managed to look incredibly fragile.
“Teresa,” she began, her voice quivering slightly. “Can we talk?”
“I’m listening,” I answered, focusing on the soil.
“I feel like there’s a lot of hostility in the house right now,” she sighed. “David is so stressed, and I just… I don’t feel welcome here anymore. We’re family. Families are supposed to support each other.”
I turned off the hose hose and wiped my hands on a towel.
“What does support look like to you, Sarah?”
She perked up, thinking she had found an opening.
“Well, just a little more understanding. Like before, sharing meals, helping out with the chores, not locking us out of the Wi-Fi, and David mentioned you changed the bank account.”
Her slip was showing. She cared about the money.
