Parenting arrangements were unresolved.
There was still no deposit for a place of our own.
Nothing had magically become easy because I left.
That is the part people rarely tell you.
Sometimes leaving the wrong situation does not immediately put you in agood one.
Sometimes it just puts you somewhere uncertain.
Somewhere cramped.
Somewhere frightening.
But somewhere that finally belongs to your choices.
Monday evening, I was standing in Dana’s kitchen washing bottles when she knocked softly on the bedroom door.
“Come eat.”
Two plates of pasta sat on the table.
Nothing fancy.
No roast.
No wine.
No speeches about family.
I sat across from her.
Picked up my fork.
And for the first time since Ryan stepped off that ship, nobody was telling me what I had to tolerate in exchangefor being taken care of.
I still didn’t know how I was going to make everything work.
