The next morning, I woke up before sunrise.
The birthday celebration was over.
The catering containers had been collected.
The flowers remained on the dining table.
A few decorations were still standing near the windows.
I walked into the kitchen and started making coffee.
My back was sore from sleeping on the sofa.
I stretched carefully.
Then I looked toward the staircase.
I wondered whether Ashley would finally suggest changing the sleeping arrangements.
She hadn't mentioned it again the previous evening.
I didn't intend to beg.
If somebody wanted to give me the bedroom I had rented, they could say so without being asked.
Linda came downstairs while the coffee was brewing.
She looked at me.
"Morning, Margaret."
"Good morning."
She glanced toward the sitting area.
"Did you sleep any better?"
"A little."
She frowned.
"I still don't like this arrangement."
I poured coffee into two cups.
"Linda, please don't worry about me."
She accepted her cup.
"I'm not worried because I think you can't manage. I'm upset because you shouldn't have to."
I understood.
We sat at the kitchen table.
The ocean was visible through the glass doors.
For a while, we talked about ordinary things.
Then Linda put her cup down.
"I want to speak with Ashley."
I looked at her.
"About the bedroom?"
"About the truth."
I didn't stop her.
I didn't encourage her either.
She was Ashley's mother.
If she wanted to have that conversation, it was between them.
Richard came downstairs a few minutes later.
He looked at his wife.
"Have you decided?"
Linda nodded.
"I'm going to ask her directly."
Richard pulled out a chair.
"Good."
I remained quiet.
Ashley appeared shortly afterward.
She was carrying her phone.
She looked at us.
"Why is everyone sitting in here?"
Linda answered.
"Come sit down."
Ashley sighed.
"Mom, what now?"
"Why did you tell us Margaret wanted the sofa?"
Ashley put her phone on the counter.
"We've already discussed this."
"No. You keep saying that. I want to know why you told us something that wasn't true."
Ashley looked at me.
Then at her mother.
"I didn't lie."
Richard spoke calmly.
"Margaret rented the house. She chose the master bedroom. Why would she suddenly want the sofa?"
Ashley crossed her arms.
"David and I needed the bigger room."
Linda looked at her.
"That wasn't my question."
Ashley didn't answer.
I took another sip of coffee.
I wasn't interested in making the conversation harder.
But I wasn't going to rescue Ashley from it either.
Linda continued.
"You told us Margaret had offered you the master because of your anniversary."
Ashley looked irritated.
"What's wrong with that?"
"Your anniversary is months away."
Ashley looked toward David's room.
"He agreed."
Linda shook her head.
"That doesn't make it Margaret's decision."
The kitchen became quiet.
David came downstairs.
He stopped when he saw everybody sitting around the table.
"What's happening?"
Richard answered.
"We're trying to understand why your mother was pushed out of the bedroom she rented."
David looked uncomfortable.
"Can we stop talking about this?"
Linda turned toward him.
"David, did your mother tell you she wanted the sofa?"
He hesitated.
That hesitation said more than a quick answer would have.
"No."
Linda looked at Ashley.
Ashley stared at him.
I watched my son carefully.
He continued.
"She didn't exactly say that."
I set my cup down.
"David, I never said it at all."
He looked at me.
"I know."
Nobody spoke.
Ashley picked up her phone.
"I don't understand why this has become such a big deal."
Richard answered.
"Because it was wrong."
Ashley looked at her father.
He didn't look away.
I felt something settle inside me.
Not satisfaction.
Not victory.
Just relief that I no longer had to pretend everybody remembered the situation differently.
Linda turned toward me.
"Margaret, I think you should have the master bedroom."
I shook my head.
"I appreciate that."
Richard stood.
"I'll help move the bags."
Ashley immediately objected.
"Nobody is moving anything."
Richard looked at her.
"Then you can move it yourself."
David looked between them.
I raised my hand slightly.
"Please. I don't want another argument."
Linda looked at me.
"Then what do you want?"
I considered the question.
I wanted to sleep comfortably.
I wanted my son to understand that I mattered.
I wanted Ashley to stop speaking for me.
But I didn't want another family battle.
So I answered honestly.
"I want everybody to start respecting what I actually say."
Nobody had an immediate response.
Ashley picked up her phone and walked toward the staircase.
David remained in the kitchen.
He looked at me.
"I'm sorry, Mom."
I nodded.
"Thank you."
I wasn't ready to say more.
And for once, that was enough.
Click here to continue reading: PART 11: The More I Thought About the Seventy Thousand Dollars, the More I Realized That My Silence Had Become Part of the Problem
I Thought My Seventieth Birthday Would Bring My Family Closer, Until I Heard What They Really Thought of Me
Part 10 of 24
