Brooke finally said, “Because the kids would probably be there.”
There it was.
I looked at Mason.
“You were planning to move into this house.”
He shifted in his chair.
“Not like permanently permanently.”
Brooke looked at him sharply.
That told me even more.
Mom rushed in.
“Ethan, they’re family. They need stability.”
“I need someone to explain why their stability depends on a house I buy.”
Dad’s jaw tightened.
“Because you’re in a position to help.”
I nodded slowly.
“Got it.”
Brooke apparently mistook my calmness for surrender.
Her face brightened.
“And the master suite is huge. You could take that, obviously. Mason and I could use the room across from the kids.”
She had planned where she would sleep.
In the house I would finance.
The house I would maintain.
The house she had not been invited into.
I looked at every face around the table.
Then I smiled.
“I already bought a house.”
Complete silence.
Even the television in the other room seemed suddenly louder.
Mom blinked.
“What?”
“I bought one.”
Mason stared at me.
“When?”
“Closed two weeks ago.”
Brooke’s mouth fell open.
Dad’s expression changed from confusion to anger.
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Because I didn’t need permission.”
“What kind of house?” Brooke demanded.
“Three bedrooms.”
She looked horrified.
“Three?”
“Yes.”
“That’s not enough.”
I laughed.
“For me? It’s more than enough.”
“What about everybody else?”
“What everybody else?”
Her voice rose.
“The family.”
“The family already has places to live.”
Mason suddenly stood.
“No, actually, we don’t.”
That changed the room.
I stopped smiling.
“What does that mean?”
Brooke shot him a look.
He ignored her.
“Our lease ends next month.”
“And?”
“We can’t renew.”
“Why?”
Mason rubbed the back of his neck.
“Rent went up.”
“How much?”
“Twenty-one hundred.”
“And you can’t afford it.”
He didn’t answer.
I looked at Brooke.
She crossed her arms.
“We thought we’d be moving into the new house.”
My stomach went cold.
“You thought?”
Mom stepped closer.
“We were going to talk to you.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
“After you picked the house, chose the bedrooms, checked the school district, and drove through the neighborhood?”
Dad slapped his palm against the table.
“Enough with the interrogation.”
I turned to him.
“No. Not enough.”
Mom’s eyes filled with tears almost instantly.
“You’re being cruel.”
“I’m being surprised.”
“Your brother and his children could be homeless.”
“And when were you planning to tell me that?”
“We’re telling you now.”
“No. You planned my money first and the conversation second.”
Brooke pushed her chair back so hard it scraped across the floor.
“You have no idea how hard things are for us.”
I looked at her.
“Then explain.”
“Mason’s between opportunities.”
“He has a job.”
She looked toward him.
Not anymore.
That was clue number two.
“When did you lose it?”
Mason’s eyes dropped.
“Yesterday.”
My father exhaled loudly.
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
“So you’re losing the apartment, Mason lost his job, and instead of asking me for temporary help, you decided I should buy a six-hundred-fifty-thousand-dollar house and move all of you into it?”
Brooke looked genuinely offended.
“You make enough.”
That sentence did something to me.
Not rage.
Not shock.
Something quieter.
It was like a lock clicking shut.
“All my money came from working.”
“So?”
“So why does that make it yours?”
“I didn’t say it was ours.”
“You assigned yourself a bedroom.”
“We’re family.”
I turned to Mason.
“Do you agree with her?”
He looked uncomfortable.
“Man, I just thought this could work for everybody.”
“Who pays the mortgage?”
“You.”
“Taxes?”
“You.”
“Insurance?”
“You.”
“Utilities?”
He hesitated.
“We’d help when we could.”
“With what income?”
His face hardened.
“That’s a cheap shot.”
“No. It’s arithmetic.”
Dad stood.
“That’s enough.”
“No, Dad. For once, it isn’t.”
I could hear my own heartbeat.
Years of small humiliations had suddenly arranged themselves into one straight line.
The helicopter.
The graduation dinner.
The college rent.
The certification course.
Every time I had been told I didn’t need help because I was capable.
And now the same capability had somehow become a family asset.
Mom started crying.
“We raised you better than this.”
I stared at her.
“You raised me exactly for this.”
She froze.
“You taught me to work for what I wanted. You taught me nobody would rescue me. You charged me rent while paying Mason’s college bills because I could ‘handle it.’”
Mason opened his mouth.
I raised a hand.
“No. You don’t get to interrupt this part.”
He actually stopped.
“You taught Mason that every mistake came with a bailout. Now you want me to become the next bailout.”
Dad’s face reddened.
“That’s your brother.”
“And I’m your son.”
Nobody answered.
I picked up my keys.
Brooke followed me toward the hallway.
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