Chapter 6 - WHAT JASON THOUGHT WAS HAPPENING
Jason had not understood how much his mother was doing.
That was painful to admit.
He left before seven most mornings.
Returned late.
When he came home, Thomas had eaten.
Laundry was folded.
The kitchen was clean.
Melissa told him she and Margaret “split things.”
He believed her.
Why?
Because believing her was easy.
Jason had grown up in a house where work happened quietly.
His mother packed lunches.
His father repaired things.
Meals appeared.
Bills were paid.
As a teenager, he rarely asked who had performed each invisible task.
Marriage did not automatically correct that blindness.
When Jason thanked Margaret for helping, she always said:
“That’s what grandmothers are for.”
He accepted the line instead of asking whether she meant it literally.
After his father died, Jason became even more protective of the idea that Margaret “liked being needed.”
Maybe she did.
That did not mean she wanted to be exploited.
Standing in the trashed living room with both invoices in his hand, Jason began noticing evidence he had previously walked past.
The grocery receipts all showed Margaret’s card.
The laundry basket contained his clothes.
His work shirts.
Melissa’s leggings.
Bedsheets.
Not just Thomas’s things.
He looked toward the kitchen.
“Mom, are you doing all our laundry?”
Margaret shrugged.
“It needed doing.”
“How often?”
Melissa interrupted.
“Oh my God, Jason, don’t turn this into a trial.”
He looked at her.
“How often?”
Margaret answered.
“Usually twice a week.”
“And cleaning?”
“Most of it.”
“Cooking?”
“Most nights.”
Jason looked at Melissa.
“What do you do?”
Her face reddened.
“I work.”
“So does Mom.”
“She works at a library three mornings a week.”
Margaret corrected him.
“Worked.”
Jason looked at her.
“I took leave when you asked me to move here.”
He went silent.
“You didn’t know?” Margaret asked.
May you like
“No.”
That answer hurt them both.
