Mom glanced toward Mike as though she expected him to rescue her from the question.
He didn’t.
He was too focused on the missing SUV.
“Stephanie,” she said, “you know children exaggerate.”
“Did you tell him that?”
“Not in those words.”
That answer landed exactly where I expected it to.
Tyler shifted his weight.
I kept my eyes on Mom.
“What words did you use?”
“This is ridiculous,” Mike cut in.
“We can argue about words after you call the lender and fix this.”
“There’s nothing to fix.”
His face changed.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’m not putting my name back on the loan.”
Mom stepped forward.
“You can’t make a decision like that because your feelings got hurt at a birthday party.”
I almost laughed, but there was nothing funny about it.
“I made a decision about my credit.”
“That affects all of us.”
“Exactly.”
Mike’s jaw tightened.
“You knew I needed that car.”
“And you knew I was the reason the financing worked.”
“So now you’re holding that over my head?”
“No.
I’m removing it from under yours.”
For a moment nobody spoke.
Tyler finally muttered, “It was supposed to be a joke.”
I looked at him.
He sounded smaller on my porch than he had in that crowded dining room.
“Which part?”
He frowned.
“The soda.”
“And telling me I didn’t belong?”
His eyes moved toward Mom.
That movement answered something before anyone spoke.
Mom saw it too.
“Tyler,” she warned.
He looked confused now.
“What? You did say it.”
Mike closed his eyes briefly.
Mom’s face went pale.
“I did not say, ‘Go pour soda on your aunt and tell her she doesn’t belong.’”
“I didn’t say you told me to pour it.”
“Then stop twisting things.”
Tyler’s voice became defensive.
“You said she always sits there acting like she doesn’t want to be around us.
You said sometimes you don’t even know why she comes because she never acts like she belongs anymore.”
The porch went quiet.
That was close enough.
Not the exact sentence Tyler had performed for the room, maybe, but close enough that a fifteen-year-old looking for a laugh could sharpen it into a weapon.
Mom looked at me.
“Steph, I didn’t mean—”
“I know what you meant.”
