Dad called me “cold.”
I didn’t argue.
The shuttle driver loaded their bags while Denise documented the house’s condition.
Nothing had been broken or stolen.
That mattered.
This was about stopping disrespect before it became damage.
Before leaving, Melissa stood on the porch with her arms crossed.
“You embarrassed me in front of strangers.”
I looked at her.
“You ordered me to make breakfast in my own house at five in the morning.”
“That was a joke.”
“No. The joke was thinking I would keep pretending this was normal.”
Her husband quietly told her to get in the van.
That surprised me.
Two days later, Dad called.
He didn’t apologize immediately.
He started with, “We thought you’d be happy to see us.”
“I was happy to see you,” I said. “I was not happy to be invaded.”
There was a long pause.
Then he said, “Fair.”
