“One now,” I said.
“Two?”
I smiled.
“One now.”
He hugged my waist.
“Thank you, Mommy.”
I nearly broke down.
Dad started putting groceries away.
Milk.
Fruit.
Chicken.
Cheese.
Cereal.
Yogurt.
He filled the refrigerator shelf by shelf.
The refrigerator that had looked abandoned that morning slowly began to look like a home again.
Ryan watched him.
“You don’t get to come in here and act like you’re in charge.”
Dad closed the refrigerator.
“No.”
He turned around.
“I’m not in charge.”
He pointed toward me.
“She is.”
Ryan laughed bitterly.
“She doesn’t know how to handle money.”
I looked at him.
“Maybe I didn’t.”
He smiled.
But I continued.
“But I know exactly how to handle a man who takes it.”
His smile disappeared.
Dad looked at me.
And for the first time that morning, he smiled too.
Not because he was winning.
Because I was finally speaking.
That night, after Ben went to sleep, I opened my laptop.
