A man approached my car.
« Can I help you? »
« I’m Sarah. Jacob’s wife. »
His expression brightened.
« Oh! I’m Dennis. Your husband’s been putting everything into this project. »
I forced a smile.
« It’s looking good. »
« Can I help you? »
« We should finish in three weeks. »
I gripped the steering wheel.
« Who’s moving in? »
Dennis looked surprised.
« His parents. Linda and George. »
My heart dropped.
« What? »
« Who’s moving in? »
« They’re supposed to move in next month. »
Suddenly, the initials made sense.
L.M.
They stood for Jacob’s mother’s first and last name.
I looked toward the house again.
Suddenly, the initials made sense.
Our daughter couldn’t have boots.
Our baby supposedly couldn’t have diapers.
And my husband was building his parents a four-bedroom house.
I could hardly breathe.
***
I drove straight home.
Our daughter couldn’t have boots.
When I entered the house, Mom immediately knew something was wrong.
