Chapter 3 - The Bills in the Drawer
I didn't confront Mom the next day.
Instead, I started paying attention.
That was harder than I'd expected.
Once you begin looking for something wrong in your own home, ordinary moments start feeling suspicious.
Curtis borrowed Mom's car on Tuesday morning and returned it with almost no gas.
Wednesday, a delivery driver arrived with two expensive pairs of sneakers addressed to him.
Thursday, Mom told me we needed to be careful with electricity because the monthly bill had increased.
Meanwhile, Curtis left the television running all night.
I wanted to say something every time.
I didn't.
On Friday, I came home early because Mr. Harris closed the shop after an electrical problem.
Mom was in the kitchen with several envelopes spread across the table.
When she heard the front door, she hurried to gather them.
"You're home early."
"Yeah. Shop closed."
She slid the envelopes beneath a grocery advertisement.
I noticed the red lettering on one.
PAST DUE.
"Everything okay?"
"Fine."
"Mom."
"I said it's fine, Darius."
I set my keys on the counter.
"How far behind are we?"
She looked exhausted.
"Please don't start."
"I'm not trying to fight."
For several seconds, she remained still.
Then she lowered herself into a chair.
"The mortgage is behind."
My stomach tightened.
"How far?"
"Almost two payments."
I stared at her.
The house had belonged to my grandparents.
After Grandma died, Mom inherited it along with a remaining mortgage balance.
For years, she had managed the payments.
Sometimes she struggled.
But she had never fallen this far behind.
"How did this happen?"
She rubbed her forehead.
"Things got expensive. My hours were cut for a while. I had some unexpected costs."
"What costs?"
She didn't answer.
"Mom, I gave you twenty-four hundred dollars in rent over the last six months."
"I know."
"And Nia sent you money."
Her eyes widened.
"She told you?"
"Yes."
Mom looked down.
I pulled out the chair opposite her.
"Where's the money going?"
Before she could answer, the front door opened.
Curtis walked into the kitchen carrying a shopping bag.
He stopped when he saw us.
"What's this?"
Mom straightened the envelopes.
"Nothing."
I looked at the bag.
Another clothing-store logo.
"Mom just told me the mortgage is behind."
Curtis's expression changed immediately.
"That's private business."
"It's the house I live in."
"Doesn't mean you get to question everything."
I turned toward Mom.
"How much has Curtis contributed since he moved in?"
Curtis placed his bag on the counter.
"Here we go again."
"Answer me."
"You need to remember whose roof you're under."
"Actually," I said, "I'd like to know who's paying for the roof."
Mom slapped her palm against the table.
"Enough!"
Both of us stopped.
She was trembling.
Not with anger.
With embarrassment.
"Please," she said. "Both of you."
Curtis picked up his bag.
"I'm not standing here being disrespected."
He left the kitchen.
I watched Mom cover her face.
"Why are you protecting him?"
She didn't look up.
"Because you don't understand everything."
"Then help me understand."
She stared toward the hallway where Curtis had disappeared.
"He borrowed some money from me."
"How much?"
She swallowed.
"Eight thousand dollars."
The refrigerator hummed behind us.
I couldn't speak.
Eight thousand dollars.
Mom had worked overtime for years to build her emergency savings.
When Nia needed textbooks, Mom gave her money.
When I needed tools for my apprenticeship, Mom helped me.
She had always said savings meant security.
"When?"
"Over several months."
"For what?"
"He was going to start a delivery business."
"Did he?"
She shook her head.
"Not yet."
I sat back.
The mortgage payments.
The extra money from Nia.
The constant demands that I contribute more.
The expensive purchases arriving at our door.
Pieces of a picture I hadn't wanted to see began fitting together.
"Mom," I said carefully, "does he have a plan to repay you?"
She stared at the envelopes.
"He keeps saying he will."
And in that moment, I realized the problem was bigger than unfair rent.
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My mother was risking the home she'd spent her entire adult life protecting.
And she was afraid to admit it.
