horrible to her before Dad ever came back.”
She caught herself.
“Richard.”
She looked down.
“I was horrible because I was jealous.”
“Of my mother?”
“Of what you had with her.”
I frowned.
Vanessa wiped her eyes.
“My mother spent my entire childhood telling me I was a burden. Margaret treated you like you mattered every second you were in the room.”
Her voice broke.
“I hated seeing it because I wanted it.”
It excused nothing.
But for the first time, I understood something about Vanessa I should have understood years earlier.
People can envy love when they have never experienced it safely.
She pushed the envelope closer.
“I can’t undo what I did.”
“No.”
“I know.”
Then she stood.
At the door, she stopped.
“David?”
I looked up.
“I’m glad Margaret’s treatment worked.”
That was all.
She left.
Mom moved in with me the following spring.
Not because she
