Mom smiled. “You’re so kind, Scott.” She raised her head and eyed Meredith. “But I know this has been hard.” She quickly averted her gaze. “I want to start looking for another place to live.” Her lower lip trembled. “And if it’s okay with you, I’d like Abbi to come with me when I move out.”

I shoved my chair back and jumped up. “Really?” Mom smiled and nodded. I threw my arms around her and gave her a huge hug. We’d never even talked about me living with her. I couldn’t believe we were on the same page.

Dad was trying not to cry. He probably hadn’t expected this any more than I had. I wished he could come with us. Meredith stepped in after a few minutes had passed, and he still hadn’t responded.

“I understand where you’re coming from and agree that it’s probably time to think about what happens next,” she said, nodding in Dad’s direction like she hoped he’d jump in at any time, but he was content to let her talk. “I’m open to helping you in whatever way I can. So is Scott, of course. But I’m not sure how we feel about Abbi living with you right now.”

“She can’t live with me, Scott?” Mom’s voice sounded like a little girl’s.

He rubbed his forehead, struggling to find the right words. “I . . . um, I think we would have to be confident of a few things before that happened.”

“Are you serious?” I slapped my hands on the table. “You would actually say I couldn’t go? You’d keep me away from Mom?”

“Of course not,” he said.

Meredith piped up. “That’s not what we’re saying at all. I don’t think we’ve had time to consider any of the practical things about how something like that would work.”

She stood next to him, holding his hand in solidarity, like the family therapist had suggested. I didn’t want to talk about this with her. This was between Dad, Mom, and me, anyway.

“There are lots of things you would need to think about before making such a huge decision. It’s stuff you probably haven’t even thought of, because you’re so young, but living on your own can be very difficult,” she said.

“I wouldn’t be living on my own. I’d be living with Mom,” I said in my snottiest voice.

She glanced at Dad, then back to me. “Right,” she said slowly.

“It’s okay, Abbi,” Mom said, grabbing my arm and trying to get me to sit back down.

I refused. Meredith wouldn’t ruin this for me because of whatever weird trust thing she had going on with Mom. “I’m not asking your permission, Meredith. I’m asking my dad.”