Her voice cut off.
“What is that?”
She marched closer and read the first few boxes.
“Why is my name everywhere?”
Nobody answered immediately.
She turned toward me.
“Did you do this?”
“We all helped.”
Her voice rose.
“You volunteered me for three months without asking?”
“That is exactly the question Mom has been afraid to ask you.”
Rachel looked at Mom, then back at me.
“This is ridiculous.”
“It’s uncomfortable,” I said. “There is a difference.”
She pointed at the calendar.
“I have children. I have a job. I can’t spend every weekend serving everybody.”
Aunt Linda leaned forward.
“Exactly.”
Rachel frowned.
Linda continued.
“You know what retirement means? It means your time finally belongs to you.”
“It does not mean everyone else gets first claim.”
Rachel crossed her arms.
“This is different. Your mother loves my kids.”
Mom spoke quietly.
“I do love them.”
Rachel spread her hands.
“There. See?”
Mom lowered her gaze.
Mark looked at his sister.
“How often have you left them with her lately?”
“Occasionally.”
“Define occasionally.”
Rachel hesitated.
“Maybe once a week.”
I walked into the kitchen and returned with Mom’s calendar.
“She marks the days she takes her medication. She also wrote your drop-offs beside them.”
