And she could understand why Mark wanted to help his mother without accepting the way he had chosen to do it.
Those were separate things.
Mark tried again.
“Claire, can we just bring everything inside tonight and figure it out?”
She looked at the three suitcases.
The storage bins.
The garment bag.
The peace lily.
Then she looked at him.
“That is exactly how this became a decision instead of a discussion.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“It’s one night.”
“No. An hour ago it was a few weeks. Maybe a couple months.”
Diane stared at him.
“A couple months?”
Mark looked genuinely confused.
“That’s what we talked about.”
“No,” Diane said. “You said I wouldn’t have to worry about moving again anytime soon.”
There it was.
Not a new document.
Not a hidden secret.
Just two people discovering that Mark had apparently used different language depending on who he was talking to.
