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I glanced toward my father, waiting for him to erupt in protest. “Dad?” I asked when he didn’t. “Is that all right? It won’t be too much for you?”
“I think we can manage,” he snapped. “I’m not an invalid.”
I winced, thinking of my mother lying upstairs in her bed, a prisoner of her own body. The word “invalid” danced around my brain.Invalid. In-valid. No longer valid.
Elyse leaned toward me, as if my thoughts were printed on my forehead. “Don’t worry about us,” she whispered. “Look after yourself for a change. You look like you could use a bit of a break.”
“Can we come for a sleepover, Mom?” Sam asked.
“Can we?” Daphne repeated. “Can we, Mommy? Can we?”
“I guess so,” I answered. “As long as you’re sure…”
“We’re sure,” Elyse said, smiling toward my father.
I marveled at her certainty, the effortless way she took control. If only my mother had handled things—handled my father—as well, I thought. “Well, okay, then. If you’re absolutely sure…”
“Yay!”
“Yay!”
I thanked Elyse for dinner and even hugged her goodbye. “You’re the best,” I told her.
God, I was such a fool!
