I said, looking out at the dark yard.
“He is leaning on you too hard, Mom, and it has only been six months since Aunt Clara passed,” she said without pausing for me to answer. “You need to set some boundaries before he starts expecting you to cook his dinners too.”
“He is just lonely, Rachel,” I said, my hand drifting down to touch my bare ring finger continue reading …
again.
“Grief doesn’t give him a free pass to move into your pocket,” she said.
“He was her husband for thirty years,” I said.
“And he is a grown man who needs to manage his own household,” she said, her voice rising. “Are you sure he isn’t asking you for more than just company?”
I gripped the plastic receiver tighter, the plastic cold against my ear. continue reading …
