“I’m sorry you have to hear it.”
“They think we don’t.”
I sat beside her. I wanted to say that adults could repair a marriage, that their home would settle, that next Thanksgiving would be easier. I knew none of those things.
“If it gets too loud, you can call me,” I said. “You and Max can come here.”
Lily leaned against my shoulder.
Out in the living room, Max called, “Grandma, how many cookies can a bird eat?”
“Less than you,” I called back.
He laughed, and Lily did too.
Two days later, Stuart came alone.
He stood outside my apartment with his hands in his coat pockets. I let him in, and we sat at the small table I had placed beside the window.
He told me he and Jennifer had met with a debt counselor and an attorney. They were reviewing the loan documents and the business accounts. He had sold one of his trucks. Jennifer had agreed to show him every notice she had kept.
They had not decided what would happen to their marriage.
“I came to tell you,” he said, “so you didn’t hear it through Lily.”
“Thank you.”
He glanced around the apartment. “It’s nice here.”
“I like it.”
For a while we watched a delivery van pull up across the street.
“I kept thinking about Dad’s house,” he said. “I thought he’d want it to stay in the family.”
“Robert wanted me to have a home, Stuart.”
