Now they were about to lose the very house they had once used as a weapon against me.
My father looked at me.
“I understand if you don’t want to help.”
Before I could answer, Emily stood.
“I’ll make some tea.”
That was all she said.
My father watched her
nearly stood up.
“You paid their mortgage?”
She nodded.
Emily gave me a small, nervous smile.
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“Your mother called me three weeks ago.”
I turned toward my mother.
She began crying.
“I didn’t know what else to do,” she whispered. “I was ashamed to call you.”
So she had called the woman she once said was unworthy of her son.
Emily had listened.
And said nothing to me.
But there was more.
Emily explained that over the previous months, she had also anonymously paid part of my father’s prescription costs.
