“Vanessa, are you contributing anything financially?”
“I’m looking for work, Mom.” Birthdayparty planning
“I understand. I’m asking what the arrangement is.”
Vanessa crossed her arms.
“I cook.”
“And who cleans?” Margaret asked.
“Mostly Ethan,” Vanessa admitted reluctantly.
“Laundry?”
“Ethan.”
“Dishes?”
Ethan lifted his hand.
“I do those after she cooks.”
Vanessa struck the tabletop.
“So now cooking doesn’t count as work?”
“Of course it counts,” Margaret said. “But I thought you two were sharing a home.”
Vanessa turned angrily toward her boyfriend.
“You’ve made me look terrible.”
Ethan glanced at the sheet.
“I didn’t write those charges.”
Ethan paid for their home, supplied their food, cleaned, and worked.
“Ethan,” I asked, “why didn’t you just say no?”
“Because he doesn’t want to lose me.”
My son’s face lost its color, but he answered firmly.
“I did say no.”
“Ethan.”
“I said no three weeks ago.”
