“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
Gregory laughed.
“We’re not going anywhere.”
“Then I’ll have you removed.”
“You can’t throw family onto the street.”
I glanced toward my father’s cardboard box.
“Interesting choice of words.”
His face reddened.
Fiona immediately changed tactics.
Her voice softened.
“Lucas, the boys are upstairs.
You’re going to traumatize them over an argument between adults?”
I had expected that.
“The boys can pack their belongings.
Nobody is blaming them for this.”
“They have school things here.
Clothes.
Equipment.”
“Then pack those too.”
“We have nowhere to go.”
Dad looked up sharply.
“You have a house.”
Fiona blinked.
Dad’s voice strengthened.
“You told us you were renovating your place.
You said that’s why you needed a few days here.”
Gregory shot him an irritated look.
“Stay out of this.”
This time Dad didn’t shrink.
“It is my home you’re standing in.
I think I’m already in it.”
Mom reached for his hand.
The trembling had not stopped, but Dad squeezed her fingers.
Gregory realized the balance in the room was changing.
He tried one final approach.
“Fine.
Maybe things got heated.
Samuel and I argued.
That’s all.
Nobody needs lawyers or police.
We’ll cool down.”
I looked at the packed suitcases.
“Were you cooling down when you packed their clothes?”
“Fiona did that.”
Fiona’s head snapped toward him.
“Gregory!”
“What? You did.”
That was the first crack between them.
I said nothing.
People often tell you more when you stop helping them fill the silence.
Fiona turned on him.
“You were the one who said they wouldn’t leave unless we made it uncomfortable.”
Gregory stared at her.
Mom covered her mouth.
Dad’s expression changed completely.
