“Lauren, thank you for the tea. I’m going to call it a night. I’ll see you two ladies in the morning,” her father said as he took his cup and placed it in the sink. Her mother quickly followed behind him, rinsing his cup and placing it in the dishwasher. In the past, Lauren hadn’t paid that much attention to these minute details, but now she did.

“Night,” she called out, but she was more concerned with her mother’s actions. As soon as he was out of earshot, she spoke. “Can’t he put his own cup in the dishwasher anymore? He’s moving easily enough tonight.”

“Lauren, why in the world would you say that? I always take care of these silly things.”

“I know, Mom, but he’s capable, too. I know this rheumatoid arthritis is tough on him, but I think he needs to stop expecting you to wait on him hand and foot when he does have good days. He’s ticked at me, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to follow him around as though he’s a two-year-old, catering to his every wish.” Lauren drained the last of her tea. “He needs as much independence as his health allows.”

“Actually, his doctors have had him on a new medication for a couple of weeks. It’s in pill form, so he won’t have to have those injections. He’s terrified of needles, so this news has lifted his spirits tremendously.”

Lauren squinted. “What? Dad doesn’t like needles? Since when?”

“Since forever. He’s actually quite embarrassed about it. That’s why he refuses when you offer to go to Dr. Keller’s office with him. To be honest”—her mother looked toward the door, probably making sure her husband wasn’t listening—“it’s stressful on me, though I’ve never told him this. It’s bad enough he has this debilitating arthritis.”

“I know it is, but he’s always been so . . . well, a bit controlling. In a nice way,” she added, so her mother wouldn’t take offense.

“I don’t mind doing extra chores for your dad. I enjoy taking care of my family. You too,” she added.

Lauren felt silly and childish for her remarks. There was no point in arguing with her mother, if that’s what you could call what she was doing. Her mother was as stuck in her wifely ways as her father was in refusing to step into the modern world everyone outside this house lived in.

“Just forget I said anything. It’s been a long day, Mom. I’m going up to bed. Is there anything you need before I go upstairs?” She always asked this, and rarely did her mother or father ask much of her.

“How were sales today?” her mother asked.