Again.
She stared at the screen.
Then she walked into the hallway.
Her mother-in-law, Margaret Whitmore, stood beside the thermostat.
Margaret was sixty-nine and had been living with Susan and Richard for nearly two years.
Susan didn’t need to ask who had touched the controls.
Margaret’s expression answered the question before Susan even spoke.
“Did you turn off the air-conditioning upstairs?”
Margaret folded her arms.
“There’s no reason to cool half the house just because you want to sit upstairs with a computer all afternoon.”
Susan kept her voice level.
“I told you this morning that I had an important meeting and needed the room quiet.”
Margaret laughed dismissively.
“Susan, you’re sitting in a bedroom with a laptop. Stop acting like you’re running the Pentagon.”
Susan said nothing.
Five years of marriage to Richard Whitmore had taught her something about his mother.
Margaret didn’t need facts before deciding whose needs mattered.
