“Clean all three floors before breakfast.”
“Do not take food from refrigerator without permission.”
Noah whistled.
“Mom.”
“I know.”
Emma continued.
“Mow lawn.”
“Pick up kids.”
“Buy your own meals.”
Then she looked at me.
“Grandpa actually did all this?”
“Yes.”
Ethan said.
“He did.”
Noah shook his head.
“Why didn’t you just leave?”
I smiled.
“Eventually I did.”
“Across the street.”
Everyone laughed.
Then Vanessa took the paper.
She stared at it.
Then said.
“I want to burn this.”
I reached out.
“No.”
“Why?”
“History.”
She smiled.
“Fine.”
Then she folded it.
Carefully.
Just like I had.
She handed it back.
That felt like closing a circle.
Later that night, after everyone went home, I sat alone on the porch.
Across the street, Ethan’s windows glowed.
I could see shadows moving.
Vanessa in the kitchen.
Ethan carrying dishes.
Noah’s truck.
Emma laughing on the steps.
I thought about the night I first told them I might move in.
