Chapter 14 - Cold Coffee and Colder Boundaries
The silence in the room stretched until the soft ticking of the antique mantel clock sounded like hammer blows.
I looked at Tori. She was waiting for me to soften. She was waiting for the familiar script to play out—the one where Mama Myrna sighs, pats her hand, orders room service, pays for an upgrade, and smooths over the jagged edges of her life. That was how it had always gone. When Caleb broke his leg in college, I paid the deductible. When they overspent on their first house, I paid for the kitchen remodel. When they wanted a vacation, I watched the babies.
"Linda," I said quietly, never taking my eyes off Tori. "Let’s go downstairs. I need an espresso."
Tori blinked in absolute shock, her mouth falling open. "What? Mom, I haven't eaten in twenty-four hours! I had to use my personal air miles to get a standby ticket through Frankfurt just to reach you!"
"Then you should call room service from your own phone and use your own card," I replied, grabbing my handbag from the dresser.
"I don't have access to the accounts!" she shrieked, jumping to her feet. "Caleb froze the joint cards while I was in the air! All I have is two hundred dollars in cash and my personal debit card that has nothing on it! You have to help me! You're the only family I have left!"
I stopped at the door and turned around. The anger that had simmered in my chest for the last five days—since the moment I saw those four terrified children huddled on my porch in the morning chill—suddenly crystallized into pure, unyielding stone.
"You have parents in Ohio, Tori. Call them."
"They don't have money!" she cried. "They live in a trailer! You have money! You have this luxury vacation! How can you stand there in your silk scarf while I’m starving and stranded in a foreign country?!"
"Because you put yourself on that plane," I said, my voice razor sharp. "You chose to treat my home like a kennel. You chose to lie to your husband. You chose to fly halfway around the world to find me because you thought I was the path of least resistance. You thought if you cried on my shoulder in Lisbon, I would buy you a first-class ticket home, hold your hand, and protect you from Caleb's wrath."
Tori's face tightened, the tears abruptly stopping as her facade cracked. "You owe Caleb," she snapped, her real voice finally surfacing. "He is your son!"
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"And he is a grown man with four children," I countered. "I am walking down to the café. You may sit in this room for exactly one hour to wash your face. When Linda and I return, you will not be in this room."
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