And now this woman was standing in my kitchen, telling me my son had to approve my refusal.
Before I could answer, Kevin came in from work.
Tiffany rushed to him immediately.
“Your mother is refusing to help,” she said.
Kevin rubbed his forehead. “Mom. It’s the holidays.”
I looked at him and said, “I’m not refusing Christmas. I’m refusing to be volunteered.”
Tiffany crossed her arms. “We can’t afford catering. Everything is booked. I already told everyone it was handled.”
Then Kevin looked away.
“The apartment deposit wiped out our savings,” he muttered.
Apartment deposit?
No one had told me anything about a new apartment. Yet somehow, I had been silently assigned the job of fixing the problem.
I looked at both of them.
“Then you should not have invited twenty-five people to someone else’s home.”
No one spoke.
Finally, Tiffany said coldly, “Fine. We’ll see.”
