She walked into my kitchen while the coffee was still brewing and announced that two of her friends were moving into my house that very day. Rent free, obviously. My son, Grayson, stood beside the refrigerator, staring at the floor instead of looking at me. When I asked where they would sleep, Brynn patiently explained that they needed the larger bedroom. Mine had a private bathroom, she said, and I barely used it during the day anyway. The couch was comfortable. When I asked Grayson if he agreed, he quietly said it was temporary.

Then Brynn reminded me that family helps family. I thought about the two years I had spent paying their utilities from my pension while my pantry fed them both. I looked around the kitchen and simply said, “All right.” Brynn immediately left for brunch to celebrate. She had no idea what I meant by those two words.