Patricia looked at me. “You too?”
“Yes.”
There were about three seconds of silence.
Then she said, “But your father has his procedure in November.”
That was her first thought.
Not our careers.
Not the house.
Not whether we were excited or scared.
November.
“You already said you’d take him,” she added.
“I did,” Mark said. “Before we knew we were moving.”
Richard put down his fork. “What about the house?”
For one hopeful second, I thought he meant ours.
He meant theirs.
“You usually winterize everything,” he said. “And your mother needs the gutters done.”
Then came the accountant, Patricia’s appointments, airport rides, lawn service, Richard’s car, and property-tax paperwork.
One item after another.
Neither parent had asked a single question about Denver.
Finally Patricia said, “I just don’t understand why you’d suddenly do this.”
“It wasn’t sudden.”
“You never said you wanted to move.”
