She shrugged. “Well, this house has a woman to clean it.”
Something inside me became completely still.
Instead of arguing, I smiled.
“For once,” I replied, “you’re absolutely right.”
She looked pleased, unaware that I had finally stopped feeling angry and started thinking clearly.
That evening, after Aaron and I cleaned the disaster, I ordered three small indoor cameras.
“What are you doing?” Aaron asked.
“Documenting your mother.”
I explained that I was finished debating whether Diane was merely careless. Either she was the messiest person alive, or she was creating the chaos deliberately.
Aaron stared at me before slowly nodding.
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