“Not in this market,” Vanessa said, her fingernails tapping a furious rhythm against the mahogany table. “Everything is leased. Everything requires a three-month deposit that they do not have.”
“We could pack up our boxes and be here by next weekend,” Linda said. “We could store our extra furniture in your garage.”
“My garage is full,” I said.
“We can clean it out,” Daniel said, leaning forward. “There is nothing in there but Dad’s old tools and boxes of old tax records. We need to clear those files out anyway.”
“Those are your father’s tools, Daniel,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “They are staying where they are.”
“They are rusting, Mom,” Daniel said. “You are holding onto heirlooms that have no practical use anymore.”
“They have use to me,” I said.
“You are being stubborn,” Vanessa said, her voice dropping to a low, cold register. “You have a whole house that is paid off, and you won’t even share a corner of it to keep my parents from being homeless.”
“I am not responsible for your parents’ housing, Vanessa,” I said.
