“We do not live in the city,” I said flatly. “We live in a rental in the suburbs, and we pay $1,900 a month for it.”
My voice was calm, but inside I was furious.
“And every month we pay that rent on time. Mike still has a car loan. We have groceries, gas, insurance, basic living expenses. We’ve been putting money aside because we’re trying to save for our own down payment.”
Susan waved that off. “Oh, don’t act like you’re struggling. Mike told me you got promoted. You’re making what now—around $7,000 a month take-home?”
She narrowed her eyes. “And Mike brings in another $5,000, doesn’t he? That’s $12,000 a month between the two of you. No kids. What exactly is the problem?”
I stood up slowly and braced my hands on the table.
“Let’s do the math, then,” I said. “Rent: $1,900. Mike’s car payment: about $1,100. Food, transportation, household expenses, clothes, basics: at least $3,000 a month for two adults, and that’s being careful. We’ve been saving roughly $3,000 to $3,500 a month because we want to buy our own place.”
“Our own place,” I repeated. “Not Emily’s.”
“If we start paying $2,400 a month for your daughter’s condo, plus furnishing it, plus repairs, we can forget about ever buying a home ourselves.”
Susan threw up her hands. “You are unbelievably cold. Everything is ‘ours, ours, ours’ with you. What about family? Who’s supposed to look out for Emily?”
“Emily can transfer to a cheaper program or get a part-time job,” I said. “I worked through college. Mike worked through college. People do it every day.”
“Do not compare my daughter to you,” Susan snapped. “You’ve always been built to grind. Emily is sensitive. She gets migraines when she’s stressed. Her blood pressure goes up. She needs stability.”
