Then one random Thursday, Mom and my stepdad dropped a bomb.
“We’re moving!” she said, her smile too wide. “To a beautiful place just outside of town.
I stared at them, trying to do the math. My stepdad, Ray, is a substitute P.E. teacher who only works when someone calls out.
My mom works part-time as a receptionist at a dentist’s office. They can barely cover rent, let alone buy a whole house.
So I asked, straight-up, “How are we affording this?”
My mom’s smile froze for a second. She glanced at Ray.
He cleared his throat and walked out of the room. She didn’t answer me. She didn’t even try.
Over the next week, I asked again.
Then again. Each time, she brushed me off.
Finally, one night, while I was washing dishes, I asked her one last time.
She turned around fast, her voice sharp.
“Fine. We used some of your father’s money.
But it was for all of us. For you, too.”Continue reading…
