The Bitter Seed of Growth
Hannah looked at the papers Penny held out. The silence between them hung thick in the autumn breeze.
"Why are you here, Penny?" Hannah asked gently, without malice.
Penny swallowed hard, looking down at her sensible work shoes. "Because Mother told me to hire an attorney to sue Greg for emotional distress and promissory estoppel. She wanted to drag our family into court to force a settlement."
"And why didn't you?"
"Because when I looked at my sons last week," Penny said, a single tear escaping her eye and running down her pale cheek, "they were watching me scream at the electric company on speakerphone. And I saw the terror in their eyes. The same terror Greg and I used to have when our father screamed at the bills on the kitchen table."
Penny looked up, her gaze raw and completely stripped of pretense.
"I realized that as long as Greg paid for everything, I never had to grow up. I was letting Mother use me as a battering ram against my own brother just so she could keep control over all of us. I didn't take the job for Greg’s money, Hannah. I took it because my boys deserve a mother who isn't a helpless child."
Hannah stepped down the first wooden step. She looked at the small brown parcel the courier had set on the porch bench.
May you like
"What is in the box?" Hannah asked softly.
"It’s an heirloom quilt," Penny whispered. "Our grandmother made it for Greg when he was born. Mother kept it locked in her cedar chest for thirty years. I took it from her house yesterday before I moved my furniture out. It belongs to Clara."
