My daughter-in-law kept using my spare key to walk into my house whenever she wanted, so one morning i quietly changed the locks. she laughed when her key stopped working, thinking i was just being dramatic. but what she did not know was that i had also changed one more thing that day, and by sunset, my son was calling nonstop because the house was no longer waiting for them.

things right for someone else.

“Hello, David.”

“Hi, Mom.”

His voice was quiet. No performance. No prepared speech.

“Clara’s upset,” he said.

“I imagine she is.”

“She says she was embarrassed.”

“That is hers to work through.”

A pause.

“I should have stopped her from saying you were confused.”

“Yes,” I said. “You should have.”

He inhaled. “I’m sorry.”

The words were not grand. They did not repair everything. But they were clean, and clean was enough for a beginning.

“I miss coming over,” he said.

“I miss my son.”

That sentence sat between us.

Then he said, “Can we talk about how to fix this?”

“We can talk about how to move forward,” I said. “Fixing makes it sound like we are returning to the old arrangement. We are not.”

“What are the terms?”

It was such a businesslike question that I almost smiled. He sounded like Robert for