Standing in the doorway was Matt and Kevin’s mother.
“Mom?” Kevin stammered.
“What are you doing here?”
She walked past him, saw the soaked kitchen floor, and then looked at me holding a pile of wet towels.
“Matt invited me,” she said.
“He thought I should hear how my son speaks to his wife.”
Kevin shot Matt an angry look.
“You called Mom because of a joke?”
“No,” Matt replied calmly.
“I called her because it stopped being funny weeks ago.”
My hands started shaking.
I had never told anyone how humiliated Kevin made me feel.
Their mother turned to him.
“Did you really tell Matt he could have your wife?”
Kevin laughed nervously.
“She’s exaggerating.
She sits home all day and complains.”
Matt’s expression hardened.
Then their mother reached into her bag and placed an envelope on the table.
“If she sits home doing nothing,” she said, “why did you ask me for four thousand dollars to hire help because your wife was supposedly too exhausted to manage the house?”
I stared at Kevin.
“What four thousand dollars?”
The color disappeared from his face.
Their mother slowly opened the envelope.
“That isn’t the only thing she doesn’t know, is it, Kevin?”
She pulled out a bank statement, pointed to one payment, and asked, “Would you like to explain who this money really went to?”
Kevin jumped from his chair and tried to grab it—but Matt stepped between them.
What was Kevin hiding from his wife, and why did Matt already know?
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