Chapter 13 - Reality Was Not Revenge
My parents did not become homeless.
That mattered.
They used some of Frank’s brokerage money.
Cut expenses.
Canceled the luxury kitchen renovation.
Eventually sold Brookfield voluntarily.
They bought a smaller ranch house outside Columbus.
The apocalypse Mom predicted never arrived.
What arrived was budgeting.
Lauren and Derek sold an investment property.
Eric refinanced equipment and restructured his renovation business.
For the first time, he called me without asking for money.
“Can you look at my numbers?”
“No.”
He sounded hurt.
“You do this for a living.”
“I’ll give you the name of an accountant.”
“Why can’t you help?”
“Because every time I become the solution, somebody eventually decides I caused the problem.”
Silence.
Then:
“Okay.”
It was one of the healthiest conversations we had ever had.
Mason called again months later.
“I’m still sorry.”
“I know.”
“I did something bad.”
“Yes.”
“I’m bad.”
“No.”
I made my voice firm.
“You did a bad thing. That is not the same as being a bad person.”
He cried.
So did I after we hung up.
May you like
Mercy did not require pretending the plate had never happened.
That was something my family had never understood.
