“Mom, please don’t make this difficult.” The frustration in his voice cut through me like a knife. “Christine has been really stressed lately, with the house renovations and everything.”

The house renovations. The house I’d helped them buy. The mortgage I’d been paying for them since David lost his job last year—the mortgage that had been draining my retirement fund, month after month.

“I understand,” I said, though I didn’t. Not really. After we hung up, I stood there, staring at the roses I’d so carefully arranged. I’d always believed that families