"Oh, what?"
I detected true nervousness. "I was just hoping we'd move."
"You don't like your house? It's magnificent and there's tons of room! It's a castle and it's always been your home!"
"I hate my house." I was shocked.
"Does it have to do with your mother?" I immediately realized I'd miss spoken.
"I don't want to talk about my mother," she announced firmly. "How many times do I have to I have to tell you the same thing?"
"Sorry. What sort of house would be better than where you live now? I hope not a larger one!"
"No. I want a real house; one like where regular people live. Just big enough but without all that junk that makes it look like a museum."
"You're beginning to sound like me! Your house scares me as much as your father's money."
"But you'd stay there if we didn't want to move?"
"Yes. I'd hate it but I would live there."
"Why?"
"Because I love your father, and if where I live is all that's standing in our way, I'd make the concession. That's how love works."
"Love is a big fat joke."
Her conviction frightened me. I was quick to respond. "No, it isn't! It happens to be how I feel about your father, among other people!"
She changed the subject on purpose. "So make him buy you a new house. Tell him he has to!"
"Granted, I wouldn't be comfortable living there; in fact I'd hate it. I'm not used to all that opulence. But I want to be fair . . ."
She smiled. "I like that word. Opulence. No 'opulence' allowed."
"So, are there any non-opulent houses in your neighborhood?"
"No. Besides, I don't want to live in Newton. Make him buy you a house far away."
Again, I was shocked. "What about your friends?" The words were barely out of my mouth before I remembered she had none.
"I don't have any friends, and I hate Newton."
This was a breath of honesty, and I was desperate to take advantage of it. "What else do you hate? What changes would you like to make if you could?"
"I'd go to a regular school."
"You could have protested over home schooling, couldn't you? There must be good schools in Newton."
"They're mostly private, and they're all snobs and really strict. Where Sister Rose taught Mrs. Doberchek said, the kids called it St. Beat-em. I know the nuns can't do that now but I still don't want to go there. I want to go to a normal public school." She looked at me. "I'd have a dog, and TV and a computer too! I'd do regular things like you and grandma did."