But it was not yet successful enough to repay everything.
“How much?”
He told me.
Sixty-two thousand dollars remained on the business loan.
I sat quietly.
“And Rebecca knows?”
“Yes.”
“The children’s education money?”
“We haven’t touched it.”
“But you were considering it.”
“To refinance the house.”
“To repay me.”
He nodded.
“Absolutely not.”
His expression tightened.
“Mom—”
“No.”
“The loan is due.”
“Then we change the agreement.”
“You need the money.”
“I need enough money for my life. I do not need your children’s college savings.”
“They’re my children.”
“And my grandchildren.”
He looked frustrated.
“You can’t keep rescuing us.”
The words stopped me.
Because he was right.
I had spent years helping until help became expectation.
Now I was about to solve another problem simply because I could.
I folded my hands.
“What do you suggest?”
He blinked.
“What?”
“You said I shouldn’t rescue you. Fine. What do you suggest?”
Daniel stared out over the balcony.
“I could sell my share of the business.”
“Do you want to?”
“No.”
“Then that seems foolish.”
“We could sell the house.”
I had expected that.
“How would the children feel?”
“They’d adjust.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
