A few days later, I asked Danny if he would take me to see a small apartment.
He looked up from his breakfast.
"An apartment?"
"Yes."
"You're thinking about moving?"
"I'm thinking about looking."
He nodded slowly.
"Where?"
"I saw a listing near the library. It's not far from here."
Kayla turned from the stove.
"That sounds nice."
I expected Danny to look disappointed.
Instead, he asked what time I wanted to go.
We visited the apartment that afternoon.
It was on the second floor of a quiet building.
There was a small balcony overlooking a row of trees.
The kitchen was narrow, but the cabinets were clean.
The bedroom had enough space for a bed and a dresser.
The landlord showed us the laundry room and explained the parking arrangements.
I stood in the living room and looked through the window.
It was not large.
It was not luxurious.
But it was peaceful.
I could hear birds outside instead of washing machines.
Danny stood beside me.
"What do you think?"
"I like it."
He smiled.
"Then that's good."
I turned to him.
"Would you be upset if I moved?"
He looked surprised.
"Why would I be upset?"
"Because you've made room for me."
"Mom, you needed a place to stay."
"I know."
"And we wanted you here."
"I know that, too."
He put his hands in his pockets.
"But wanting you here doesn't mean you have to stay forever."
I looked around the room again.
Danny had not made me feel guilty.
That made the decision harder in a different way.
I wanted him to know that I was grateful.
I also wanted him to understand that gratitude did not mean I had to remain dependent on him.
On the way home, I told him I wanted to think about it.
He said that was fine.
We stopped at a grocery store.
Danny bought bread, milk, and a bag of oranges.
I picked up a small packet of biscuits for the boys.
At the checkout, he reached for his wallet.
I placed my hand over his.
"I can pay for mine."
He looked at me.
"Mom, it's groceries."
"And I have money."
He smiled.
"Okay."
I paid for the biscuits and a few things I wanted.
It was a small moment.
But it felt important.
I was learning that accepting kindness and keeping my independence did not have to be opposites.
That evening, Michael called.
He had heard from Danny that I was looking at apartments.
"You're moving out?"
"I'm considering it."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I haven't decided."
He paused.
"Is Danny making you feel like you need to leave?"
"No."
"Because I don't want you to feel pushed out."
"Michael, nobody is pushing me out."
"Then why move?"
"Because I want to choose where I live."
He was quiet.
I could hear television noise in the background.
"Well, you could choose our house."
"I know."
"The room is still available."
"Thank you."
He sounded frustrated.
"Mom, I don't understand why you keep making this difficult."
I sat down.
"I am not making it difficult."
"Then what are you doing?"
"Trying to make a decision without feeling that I owe anyone an answer."
He sighed.
"I just want to help."
"I know you do."
We ended the call politely.
But I could tell he was not satisfied.
The next morning, Stephanie called.
She had been speaking to Michael.
She wanted to know whether I was planning to buy an apartment.
"I might."
"Wouldn't it be better to stay with one of us?"
"I don't know."
"Mom, you don't have to live in a small place by yourself."
"I lived in a small house with your father for years."
"That's different."
"How?"
She did not answer immediately.
Then she said, "I worry about you being alone."
I believed that part.
Stephanie had always been more emotional than Michael.
She could be thoughtless, but she was not without affection.
"I won't be far away," I told her.
"Could I come see it?"
"If I decide to rent it, yes."
She seemed relieved.
We talked about the boys and the weather.
Before hanging up, she asked whether I had found the old photographs from Walt's first truck.
I told her I had.
"Could I see them sometime?"
"Of course."
She was quiet for a moment.
"I remember that truck."
"You used to sit in it with Michael."
"I remember Dad letting me hold the steering wheel."
"He had to hold your hands because you couldn't reach the pedals."
She laughed.
It was the first time in a while that we had talked about Walt without discussing his money.
After the call, I took the photograph box from my bag.
I had brought it back from the house.
I looked through the pictures again.
There was one of Walt standing in the driveway, holding Danny as a baby.
His shirt was untucked.
His boots were dirty.
He was smiling at something outside the frame.
I placed that picture on the small table beside my bed.
That evening, Danny came home early.
He had finished a repair job before the shop closed.
He brought home a paper bag of warm rolls.
The boys ran toward him.
Kayla told him to wash his hands before touching anyone.
He laughed and went to the sink.
At dinner, I told them I liked the apartment.
Danny nodded.
"That's good."
"I might take it."
Kayla smiled.
"Then we'll help you move."
I looked at both of them.
"You won't be offended?"
Kayla shook her head.
"Why would we be?"
"Because you've been so kind to me."
She set down her fork.
"Dolores, you don't have to stay here to prove you love us."
Danny looked at her, then at me.
"She's right."
I felt my eyes grow warm.
I reached for my water.
For three months, I had worried that leaving would make Danny think I had forgotten what he had done.
But he did not measure love by how long I stayed in his spare space.
He had given me a bed when I had nowhere to go.
He had not asked for a promise in return.
I realized I could leave without taking that kindness away from either of us.
Click here to continue reading: PART 16: The First Decision That Was Mine
My Husband Left Me With One Secret, and I Never Imagined My Three Children Would Give Me Three Completely Different Answers
Part 15 of 20
