He nodded slowly. “At first she came to me with shortfalls, and I covered them, but when you began sending that monthly support she stopped asking me because you were easier to manipulate,” he said, and the word manipulate landed with uncomfortable precision.
A nurse entered with Owen in her arms, and with the caregiver’s help I held him carefully against my chest while pain radiated through my pelvis. His tiny fingers wrapped around the edge of my hospital gown, and I felt my fear sharpen into determination.
“What do I do now,” I asked my grandfather, keeping my voice low so the nurse would not overhear.
“You heal first, you protect your husband and your son second, and you stop acting as an unlimited emergency fund for someone who treats you like an inconvenience,” he replied with quiet conviction.
That evening he called my sister Lauren on speakerphone while sitting beside my hospital bed. Her voice sounded breezy until he said, “Your mother left Melissa in the hospital with a newborn and went on a cruise, and I need to know if you were aware of that decision.”