Where had it gotten me?
A bill for my own kindness.
Not anymore.
I found a notepad in the kitchen drawer and carried it back to my room.
In Noah’s craft drawer I found a sheet of white poster board and a fat black marker.
I hesitated only a second.
Then I set to work on something that would teach Melissa a lesson.
Around midnight I heard footsteps in the hall.
Melissa’s voice drifted through the door, low and tense.
I froze.
She spoke to someone about a payment, about a balance she was behind on.
The pieces began to slide together in the dark.
The neglected house.
The desperate phone call.
The two thousand dollars she needed so badly she would bill her own mother-in-law for the privilege of cleaning it.
She had not invited me because the children missed me.
She had invited me because she was cornered.
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