Chapter 11 - Jason Stopped Calling It Weakness
Jason started therapy.
He did not tell me after the first session.
He told me after the fourth.
I appreciated that.
No announcement.
No attempt to turn attendance into repair.
He called one Thursday.
“Can I tell you something from therapy without making it your problem?”
“That depends on what it is.”
“Fair.”
He sat in his car outside work.
I could hear traffic.
“I keep calling myself weak.”
“You've used the word.”
“Therapist asked what weak means.”
“And?”
“I don't know.”
I waited.
“I wasn't weak when I lied to you.”
That surprised me.
“What were you?”
He took a breath.
“Active.”
I said nothing.
He continued.
“I changed what happened.”
“Yes.”
“I did it on purpose.”
“Yes.”
“I kept Mom in the house.”
“Yes.”
“I promised her things using your life.”
“Yes.”
His voice cracked.
“I hate that.”
Good.
I didn't say it.
He already knew.
Then he said:
“I keep wanting to make myself passive because passive sounds less guilty.”
That was probably the most useful thing he'd said since the stairs.
“You froze too.”
“I did.”
“Both can be true.”
“Yes.”
We were getting better at ugly combinations.
Then he said:
“Mom wants me to pay for a longer-term apartment.”
I laughed despite myself.
“Of course.”
“She has money.”
“Then why?”
“She says I caused her housing problem.”
I almost said you did.
Because partly, he had.
Jason said it first.
“I did.”
I stopped.
“I told her she'd have a home.”
“Yes.”
“She sold the condo partly because of that.”
“Yes.”
“So I’m thinking of helping for three months.”
My body tightened.
He heard my silence.
“Not from joint money.”
We still had joint accounts.
Marriage does not pause as neatly as feelings.
“From mine.”
“Why are you telling me?”
“Because before I do something that affects our future, I want you to know.”
I appreciated the change.
I also hated the idea.
“Are you helping because you think you owe her housing?”
“Partly.”
“Or because if she's financially comfortable, she'll stop being angry at you?”
Long pause.
“I don't know.”
“Figure that out before you sign anything.”
“Yes.”
He did not ask what I thought the correct answer was.
Two days later, he told Margaret he would pay one month directly to the landlord while she found another arrangement.
Not three.
He did not tell me until after.
That irritated me.
Then I realized it didn't affect joint funds.
His decision.
That was also part of learning.
Margaret wrote him a six-page email.
He did not forward it.
I asked only:
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Want to talk?”
“Not about what she wrote.”
“Okay.”
The criminal case continued slowly.
Her attorney sought dismissal.
The prosecutor opposed.
I went to one hearing.
Margaret sat twenty feet away.
She looked at my wrist, now in a lighter brace.
Then looked away.
For a second, I felt sorry for her.
That frightened me.
Then I remembered sympathy did not require access.
I left before she did.
Outside, Jason was waiting by my car.
I had not asked him to come.
He had asked the night before whether I wanted him there.
I said yes.
He didn't touch me.
Just opened the passenger door because my wrist still made it awkward.
On the drive home, he said:
“I don't know if Mom and I come back from this.”
I watched traffic.
May you like
“Neither do I.”
He knew I meant us too.
