The first thing my daughter said when I came home early was, “Careful, Dad. It’s wet. I’m almost done.” She was twelve years old, kneeling on our entryway tile with a scrub brush in her hand. In the next room, four women were drinking wine

slightly.

“I didn’t realize she was one of my students.”

The room became quiet.

I looked at Tiffany.

“Why would you tell your friends that?”

She waved a hand.

“It was just a misunderstanding.”

But I wasn’t convinced.


I asked Maya to wash her hands and sit in the kitchen with a cinnamon roll.

Then I offered to finish cleaning the remaining tiles. BuyLumber

Tiffany approached me.

“Greg, you’re making this sound like something serious.”

I kept my voice calm.

“I’m not upset that Maya helps around the house. I just want to understand whether we’re still following the chore schedule we agreed on.”

Tiffany looked uncomfortable.

“We’ve made a few adjustments.”

“What kind of adjustments?”

She hesitated.

“She’s older now. She can handle more responsibility.”

I nodded.

“Then we should have discussed that together.”

June, who was preparing to leave, asked whether she could speak with me privately.

I