Chapter 3 - The Broken Promise
Later that evening, my cheap flip phone buzzed on the nightstand. I looked at the cracked screen. The caller ID flashed: Michael.
I let it ring five times before pressing the button and putting it to my ear. ""Hello, Michael.""
""Mom? Where are you?"" His voice was hurried, distracted, filled with the usual irritable edge of an executive who felt his time was being wasted. ""I drove by your house after work to drop off some frozen dinners Ashley packed, but the porch light was off and your taxi driver's card was wedged in the door. Are you at the neighbor's?""
""I'm not at the house, Michael,"" I said calmly.
He sighed heavily into the receiver, that familiar sound of exasperation that had pierced my heart so many times. ""Mom, please don't be dramatic. I know you were upset yesterday, but you have to understand our position. Ashley was stressed with the kids' soccer tryouts, and having someone in a wheelchair around the house when the downstairs bath isn't accessible... it's just a major liability. I told you I'd help you look up some state-funded care facilities this weekend.""
State-funded care facilities. The places where six seniors shared a single orderly, where the smell of bleach and neglect hung thick in the air. That was what my only son thought I deserved.
""You don't need to look up anything, Michael,"" I said evenly. ""I found a place.""
""You did?"" His tone shifted instantly from annoyed to relieved. The guilt slipped off his shoulders like rain on glass. ""See? I knew you could handle it. Did you get into that church community center near 4th Street?""
""Something like that,"" I replied, holding back the bitter laugh threatening to break through my throat.
""Great. That's a huge relief. Listen, Mom, the reason I'm also calling is... well, Ashley and I are having a dinner party on Saturday night. Her parents are flying in from Atlanta, and my managing director from the firm is coming over. Ashley was wondering if you still had Grandma's antique silver tea set? You know, the sterling one in the velvet chest. We really need it for the centerpiece to impress the board.""
I gripped the phone tightly. He had turned me away in the heat, refused to let me sleep on his floor, but had the audacity to call twenty-four hours later to ask for my mother's heirlooms to show off to his wealthy friends.
""The tea set is in a safe deposit box, Michael,"" I said quietly.
""Can you give me the key? Or tell me which branch it's at?""
""No,"" I answered, my voice steady and firm as stone. ""The tea set stays with me.""
""Mom! Why are you being so difficult lately?"" Michael snapped, his polished facade cracking. ""We are trying to build a future here. My promotion depends on how this weekend goes! You always do this—holding onto old junk when someone else could actually put it to good use.""
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""I have to go, Michael,"" I whispered, and before he could yell another word, I ended the call.
I sat in my wheelchair, looking down at my trembling hands. For years, I had made excuses for him. He's under stress. His career is demanding. Ashley has high standards. But the blinders had finally fallen. Robert had seen through our boy's slick exterior years ago. Robert had known that when selfishness takes root, love rots from the inside out.
