When he finished, he handed me two new keys.
One went onto my key ring.
The other went into a kitchen drawer.
That was enough.
I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone.
I simply wanted control over who entered my home.
On Tuesday, Owen called twice.
I was shopping, so I let the calls go to voicemail.
His message sounded confused.
“Mom, Christa received a notification about our phone plan. And the insurance broker called. Is everything okay?”
I called him after dinner.
“Mom, what’s happening?” he asked immediately.
“Nothing terrible, sweetheart. I’ve been reviewing my retirement expenses.”
He sounded puzzled.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve decided that you and Christa should handle your own phone bills and car insurance.”
There was a pause.
“But you’ve always paid those.”
“I know.”
“Why stop now?”
“Because you’re thirty-five, Owen. You both have jobs, and these are expenses you can manage yourselves.”
