“I told you when I changed the account.”
“I don’t remember.”
“I know.”
There was a long pause.
Then she said:
“So you’ve been paying my gas bill?”
“Yes.”
“For three years?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“I’m not keeping score.”
“But how much?”
“Mom.”
“I need to know.”
I rubbed my forehead.
“Roughly $4,000.”
She went silent.
Four thousand dollars.
That was only the gas.
She didn’t know about the roof.
The plumbing.
The insurance.
The property taxes I had helped with.
She didn’t know because I had never wanted
