Chapter 7 - THE ROOM WAS STILL AVAILABLE
Jenna became engaged.
Good for her.
Bad for my housing.
One Tuesday she said:
“Carlos and I want to live together after the wedding.”
I smiled.
Then understood.
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No.”
“This is good.”
“Yes.”
“But?”
“I have to move.”
The old panic returned instantly.
Rent.
Deposits.
Furniture.
Could I afford living alone?
I opened spreadsheets.
One-bedroom apartments near school ranged $1,050 to $1,300.
Possible.
Tight.
Then my parents surprised me.
Dad called.
“Your room is still available.”
I stared at the phone.
“No.”
“I’m not asking you to babysit.”
“No.”
“Rent can be lower.”
“No.”
He sighed.
“Fair.”
Then:
“I wanted you to know the door is open.”
That was different.
I softened.
“Thank you.”
I found a studio.
$980.
Small.
Old building.
Good windows.
No dishwasher.
I loved it.
The landlord asked for proof of income.
I provided it.
Lease in my name.
Electricity in my name.
No one could raise my rent because my sister had a baby.
That first night, I sat on the floor eating takeout because my table had not arrived.
I looked around.
Mine.
Not owned.
Rented.
Still mine in every meaningful daily way.
Mom visited.
She brought a lamp.
Then asked before rearranging furniture.
I noticed.
Martha brought Sophie.
Then took every diaper home afterward.
I noticed that too.
Tiny behaviors.
Real change.
Sophie grew into a joyful toddler.
She loved books.
I babysat sometimes.
That shocks people when they hear the story.
They expect my happy ending to involve never helping Martha again.
That would not have been freedom.
Freedom meant choice.
When Martha asked:
“Could you watch Sophie Saturday from two to five? I have a dentist appointment and errands.”
I checked my schedule.
“Yes.”
Then she asked:
“How much?”
I laughed.
“What?”
“For babysitting.”
“No.”
“Abby.”
“I’m her aunt.”
“That’s not the same as being free childcare forever.”
Exactly.
I watched Sophie for three hours because I wanted to.
Martha brought me coffee and picked her up at five.
No guilt if I declined next time.
That was family.
May you like
Not access.
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