“Someone who’s held a debt over our house for two years. Once it’s paid, she’ll learn to knock.”
Diane came out of the kitchen with a plate of cut honeydew. She saw the check on the coffee table and kept right on smiling. “Rachel, what are you doing?”
“Diane, when we bought this house, you helped us with the down payment. Eighty thousand dollars. I’ve never forgotten that.” I pushed the check toward her. “Take it. After this, the house belongs to Jake and me. No one else.”
She didn’t even look at the check. She looked at her son. “You hear that, Jake? Two years married, and she writes me a check to slap me in the face with. What am I to her — a mother, or a creditor?”
“I’m not treating you like a creditor,” I said. “I’m paying back what you gave us.”
“Did you ever thank me?” Her voice cracked. “Did you ever once thank me, Rachel? The day I handed over that down payment, you sat at that dinner table and didn’t even hug me. I gave birth to my son. I raised him. I never did it expecting anything back. But for two years, you’ve guarded yourself from me like I’m a thief. And now you write me a check. That’s not paying a debt. That’s telling me I was never family to you.”
