Chapter 2

The phone rang a few days later.

It was Tiffany. Her voice was different, not the usual strained sweetness.

"Carol? It's Tiffany."

"Hello, Tiffany. Is everything alright?" Carol asked, a knot forming in her stomach.

"Yes, everything's fine," Tiffany said, her tone sharp. "I'm calling about the refrigerator."

"Oh, it's working wonderfully. It was such a surprise," Carol replied, trying to keep her voice light.

"Good. It cost $8,800," Tiffany stated flatly.

Carol paused. "That's... very generous, Tiffany."

"Well, Mike and I put in a bit, so after our contribution, you and Frank owe us $8,000."

Carol felt the blood drain from her face.

She sat down heavily on the kitchen chair. "Owe you? I don't understand. It was a gift."

"A gift? Carol, be realistic," Tiffany scoffed. "We wanted you to have the best for your 50th. You guys can afford it with your retirement funds. We can't."

The audacity of it.

Carol's voice was low, controlled. "Tiffany, a gift doesn't come with a bill."

"Don't be so out of touch, Carol," Tiffany snapped. "We went to a lot of trouble. And honestly, it's the least you can do. Think of Chloe. She has needs. If you can't help us with this, how can we afford things for her? She'll miss out on opportunities."

The veiled threat, using Chloe, made Carol's blood boil.

"Tiffany," Carol said, her voice now firm, ice-cold. "I want to see the receipt for this refrigerator. And I want to speak with Michael about this. Immediately."

Silence on the other end.

"And until I understand what's going on," Carol continued, "you can consider the $500 a month we contribute to Chloe's expenses paused."

"You wouldn't dare!" Tiffany shrieked.

"Try me," Carol said. "Get Michael to call me. Or better yet, come over. Both of you. Tomorrow morning."

"You'll regret this," Tiffany spat, then hung up.

Carol stared at the phone, her hand trembling slightly.

Out of touch? She had managed a high school full of teenagers and their parents for decades. She knew manipulation when she saw it.

Frank came in. "What's wrong, Carol? You look pale."

She told him.

Frank, usually slow to anger, turned red. "That girl has some nerve. An $8,000 bill for a gift?"

"She threatened Chloe's opportunities," Carol said, the words bitter.

Frank shook his head. "This isn't about a fridge, Carol. This is about something else."

Carol knew he was right. She had disapproved of Tiffany from the start, seeing the materialism, the way she subtly undermined Mike.

But for Mike's sake, for Chloe's, she had tried. They had helped them with a down payment on their townhouse, a place Carol's name was also on as a co-signer, a fact Tiffany often seemed to forget. They gave them money for Chloe.

She had hoped Mike would mature, stand up for himself.

It seemed that day was not yet here.