That afternoon when I returned home, I sat in my favorite armchair and looked around at the living room I loved so much. Every piece of furniture and every decoration represented a choice I had made for myself.
On Wednesday morning, the doorbell rang and I found Penelope standing there with a box of donuts and a fake smile. She only called me “Mom” when she wanted something and I knew she was there to scout out the house before the move.
“Good morning Mom, I just wanted to stop by and talk about the move this Saturday,” she said while walking into the kitchen. I offered her a cup of coffee and watched as she began to imagine how she would rearrange my space.
“The kids are so excited and Sadie has already decided that she wants the bed by the window in the sewing room,” she said. It bothered me that she spoke as if my sanctuary already belonged to her children.
“And my mother Gladys is so grateful because she is getting very forgetful lately,” Penelope continued with a sigh. She was using emotional manipulation to make me feel like I was responsible for her mother’s well-being.
“Where exactly are you and Randall planning to sleep?” I asked while keeping my expression neutral. She explained that they would be on a sofa bed in the living room until they could find a larger house which I knew was a total lie.
“We are also going to help you with the monthly expenses because we know everything is expensive these days,” she added. I asked her exactly how much they planned to contribute and the question seemed to catch her completely off guard.
