PART 9 – My Son Apologized, but His Wife Was Already Planning How to Turn My Birthday Into Another Argument About Money

David returned to the dining room.

I stayed beside the window.

For a few minutes, I watched the waves move toward the shore.

The birthday decorations were still in place.

The flowers still smelled fresh.

But the atmosphere inside the house had changed.

People were being careful around one another.

I could feel it.

Patricia came back into the room carrying her briefcase.

"Would you like me to go over anything else today?"

I shook my head.

"Not right now. Thank you."

She nodded.

"That's perfectly fine."

She didn't pressure me.

That was one reason I had trusted her with my affairs.

She understood that I needed time to think.

I walked toward the dining table.

Ashley was standing near the flowers.

She picked up one of the small cards that had arrived with the arrangements.

"These must have cost quite a bit."

I looked at her.

"They were part of the birthday arrangements."

She put the card down.

"You really went all out."

I didn't answer.

She looked toward the kitchen.

Then she lowered her voice.

"Can we talk?"

I nodded.

She glanced at Patricia.

"Somewhere private."

Patricia looked at me.

I gave her a small nod.

She walked toward the other side of the house.

Ashley waited until we were alone.

Then she crossed her arms.

"I think this morning was unnecessary."

I looked at her.

"Which part?"

"The lawyer. The financial papers. All of it."

I remained quiet.

She continued.

"You made David feel terrible."

I looked toward the dining room.

"David and I spoke."

"He's your son. Of course he's going to feel bad when you put him in that position."

I took a breath.

"Ashley, I didn't put him in the position of receiving help."

She frowned.

"What does that mean?"

"It means I gave the money willingly. But I'm also allowed to keep records of what I give."

She shook her head.

"Nobody was asking you to do anything different."

I looked at her.

"Then why does keeping records bother you?"

She didn't answer immediately.

Instead, she looked at the flowers again.

"I just think family should trust each other."

I almost smiled.

I had trusted them.

For a long time.

Perhaps too much.

"Trust doesn't mean I should ignore my responsibilities."

Ashley sighed.

"You're making everything complicated."

I didn't respond.

She walked away.

I watched her go upstairs.

Then I returned to my chair.

A few minutes later, Linda came over.

"Was that Ashley?"

"Yes."

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine."

Linda looked toward the staircase.

"She doesn't like being questioned."

I looked at her.

"I've noticed."

Linda sat beside me.

She didn't defend her daughter.

She didn't make excuses.

She simply remained there.

That meant more than she probably realized.

Later, David came back downstairs.

He asked whether I wanted some tea.

I said yes.

He prepared it in the kitchen.

When he brought it over, he placed the cup carefully in front of me.

"Here you go, Mom."

"Thank you."

He sat down.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then he said something quietly.

"I really didn't know you were keeping track of everything."

I looked at him.

"I know."

He stared at his hands.

"I guess I should have paid more attention."

I wanted to tell him that he should have.

But I didn't.

He already knew.

Instead, I took a sip of tea.

The cup was warm.

The house was quiet.

And I finally felt that I didn't have to explain every decision I made.

Click here to continue reading: PART 10: When Linda Asked Her Daughter to Explain the Master Bedroom Again, Ashley Could No Longer Pretend Nobody Remembered What She Had Said