I lowered my voice and looked toward the stairs.
“I can’t discuss this right now.”
“You never can,” she replied. “Just promise me you’ll watch Ethan.”
“I always do.”
After ending the call, I returned to the kitchen. Ethan showed me the bird he had drawn. I told him it was beautiful, and a small smile appeared on his face.
For one peaceful moment, the kitchen felt like it belonged to the two of us.
Then Richard came downstairs carrying a duffel bag I had never seen before.
He placed it beside Ethan’s chair.
“Our son needs to learn how to be a man,” Richard announced. “He has until noon to leave.”
My spoon fell into my coffee.
“Richard, no. He’s still our child.”
“He’s eighteen,” Richard replied. “Adults don’t hide behind their mothers.”
Ethan stared at the bag. His face was pale, but he slowly stood.
