Chapter 18 - THE HOUSE WE WERE MOVING TO
Construction finished on our new house six weeks before the due date.
My father had never seen it.
Ryan had driven past.
That bothered me.
Natalie asked:
“Do you still want to move?”
“Yes.”
“Because of them?”
“No.”
That answer needed to be true.
We had chosen the house before the shove.
Closer to my office.
Closer to Natalie’s sister.
A small yard.
Nursery on the same floor as our bedroom.
Hospital twenty minutes away.
The assault did not create the move.
It made everyone assign meaning to it.
My father called:
“If you leave now, everyone will say Natalie got what she wanted.”
I answered:
“She did.”
Silence.
“Excuse me?”
“She wanted to move. So did I.”
He had no response.
Then:
“Do you care what the family thinks?”
“Yes.”
Natalie looked at me.
I continued:
“I’m just trying not to obey it.”
That was the difference.
We moved.
Not secretly.
No midnight trucks.
No bodyguards.
Movers.
Boxes.
A crib.
May you like
Three lamps we did not need.
Adult life.
