Chapter 21 - 29. Keep.
Then Mom decided sell childhood house.
“Too many ghosts.”
I said:
“Houses don’t have ghosts.”
She:
“You live with dog who found buried evidence.”
Fair.
We sorted again.
She moved to condo near sister.
Dad’s boxes went family storage/archives.
Northstar materials given to public records where appropriate.
No secret attic.
Then she found one last coin.
Dad’s.
I already had one.
She gave Evan’s to me to hold until release.
I refused.
“Give yourself.”
“Why?”
“You decide when.”
She nodded.
Family responsibility distributed.
Then she asked:
“Are you angry at me still?”
“Sometimes.”
“Good.”
She laughed.
“Why good?”
“Means we can talk.”
Silence had been poison.
Anger spoken better.
Then she said:
“I used to think good family never embarrasses each other publicly.”
“What now?”
“Good family survives accurate records.”
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That sounded like Dad should have learned.
Maybe we all were.
