“You have nothing to apologize for.”
She stared at me for a moment, then at the bank envelope on the table.
“Dad said the mortgage payment bounced this morning,” she said quietly. “He’s been calling everybody.”
“It didn’t bounce,” I said. “I stopped paying it.”
Her eyes widened.
“All of it?”
“All of it.”
For the first time since she came in, something like surprise flickered through her grief.
“You actually did it.”
“I did.”
She sat down hard.
Good for you was what her face said. I know because I saw it there before she hid it.
What came out of her mouth was more careful.
“Are you okay?”
I set the kettle on the stove.
“I think I am,” I said. “I think I may be better than I’ve been in a long time.”
She watched me fill the teapot.
“Dad is panicking,” she said. “Mom too.”
I nodded.
“They’ll survive.”
Rebecca gave a little exhale that might have been a laugh if the day had been different.
“You know,” she said, “I’ve been waiting years for somebody to tell them no.”
That stopped me.
I turned and looked at her fully.
“You saw it?”
“Grandma.” She gave me a look that was too old for her face. “Everybody saw it.”
I set two cups on the table.