The Home They Lost

When I hurried downstairs after her, my mother, Evelyn Browning, was sitting beside a flower bed in the residential complex.

"Mom," I called.

She turned around. Her eyes were red, as if she'd just been crying. The moment she saw me, she hurriedly wiped her face with her sleeve.

"Brooke, what are you doing down here? It's almost dark. It's not safe out here. Hurry back upstairs."

As she spoke, she reached into her jacket pocket. She'd worn that jacket for ten years. The collar was frayed, but the jacket itself was spotless.

She lowered her head and rummaged around for a long time, muttering as she did. "I should have told you before coming this time. I really should have thought things through.

"Your mother-in-law and Ethan are city people. They like things clean."

She finally pulled a plastic bag from the very bottom of her pocket. It was wrapped in several layers. She carefully peeled them away, one layer at a time. Inside was a roll of cash.

Fives, tens, and fifties...

The bills were neatly stacked and secured with a rubber band.

She pressed the money into my palm. "$2,000. It's clean, I promise. Take it and buy some apple pie at the supermarket. I remember how much you like them."

I fought back a sob and took my mother's hand. "Mom, come back upstairs with me."

"No, no." She waved her hand and shrank back a little. "I'm leaving now. My bus leaves at seven. Hurry back upstairs. Don't argue with Ethan!"

"Mom..."

She wouldn't give me a chance to say another word. She pushed the money into my hand and headed for the gate.

I stood there, feeling as though my throat were clogged with a wad of waterlogged cotton.

When I returned upstairs, my mother-in-law, Patricia Fitzpatrick, was standing in the living room, directing Ethan as he moved things into the second bedroom.

"Hurry up. We need to get this room ready again. Maddie will be back soon."

Maddie. Madison Fitzpatrick.

My sister-in-law.

She had been married for three years, but she came back to stay every few days, often for ten days or even half a month at a time.

Whenever she came home, she acted like royalty. She never lifted a finger, just waited for everyone to wait on her.

I had put up with it for three years without ever saying a word.

"Is that why you drove my mother away today? Because Madison was coming?" I stood in the doorway and asked.

"Who drove her away?" Patricia pointed toward the storage room and replied indifferently. "Didn't we give her a room?"

I looked at the storage room, which was barely thirty square feet. I fought to keep my temper in check. "There's no window in there. Once you put a bed inside, there's barely any room to move. My mother's getting older, and she has a bad back. She can't possibly sleep in a place like that."

"Then she should stop coming so often!" Patricia rolled her eyes.