Still, I couldn’t ignore the difference between what we’d agreed upon and what was actually happening.
“Tiffany,” I said, “we need to make sure Maya has enough time for school, friends, and the activities she enjoys.”
She sighed.
“I’ve been managing this house mostly by myself while you’re traveling.”
I nodded.
“That’s true. And I should have helped more.”
Her expression softened slightly.
Then I continued.
“But that doesn’t mean Maya should be responsible for filling the gaps in our household schedule.”
Tiffany didn’t answer.
I suggested that we take some time to reconsider how responsibilities were divided.
Not just Maya’s.
Mine too.
And Tiffany’s.
Because a household should work for everyone living in it.
Especially the children.
That weekend, I was organizing the garage when I noticed an old shopping bag behind some storage boxes.
Inside was something I recognized immediately.
Maya’s soccer shoes.
The black pair she’d worn
