I looked from room to room.
There were no workers.
Only my clothes, already packed into a suitcase.
That was when I understood. They weren’t taking me away temporarily.
They wanted me gone for good. I sat down in a chair.
“Daniel, this is my house.”
He finally looked at me.
“Dad, don’t make this difficult. You’re eighty-two now. We have to think about our future too.”
I still remember that sentence.
“We have to think about our future too.”
As if my past meant nothing.
As if the house whose mortgage I had paid for thirty years already belonged to them.
Laura picked up my suitcase.
“Let’s go.”
I didn’t argue.
But when we reached the door, I stopped.
“I want one thing.”
Daniel let out a tired sigh.
“What?”
I looked toward my bedroom.
“Give me my old pillow.”
Laura froze for a second, then laughed.
“George, there are dozens of pillows in there. We can buy you a new one.”
“I want my old pillow.”
Daniel sounded irritated.
“Dad, don’t start a scene over a pillow.”
“I’m not starting a scene. I just want my pillow.”
Laura glanced at Daniel and shrugged.
