She told me her daughter’s husband had finally answered her after she asked for the third time why Wyatt couldn’t have his bedroom back. He said, “Because he doesn’t need one here anymore. He’s sixteen, and pretty soon he’ll stop coming back and forth anyway.” She reminded him Wyatt was still his son and still stayed there every other week. He answered that Wyatt had my house if he wanted a “real bedroom” and that the basement was good enough for the amount of time he had left. She said her daughter was sitting beside him and didn’t disagree. That was when she realized nobody was actually waiting for her to find another place. Wyatt’s room had been taken because they had already decided he was temporary.
Then she told me something Wyatt had never mentioned. For months he’d been waking up before six because the basement had no door between the futon and the laundry area, and everyone came downstairs to get clothes before school. He changed in the downstairs bathroom and kept most of his clothes in a duffel bag because there wasn’t a dresser for him anymore. His grandmother had offered twice to move downstairs herself, but Wyatt told her not to because of her knees. He had apparently told her, “It’s only until you find somewhere, Grandma. I can handle it.” She started crying when she repeated that because by then she’d already offered to leave twice, and both times her daughter had told her there was no hurry.
I picked her up that afternoon and then called Wyatt’s father. I asked one question: now that his mother-in-law was moving out, would Wyatt get his bedroom back? He paused and said they’d already made plans for the room. His wife wanted a home office, and converting it back “didn’t make sense” when Wyatt would be eighteen soon anyway. Wyatt was beside me and heard the whole conversation. He didn’t argue. He just opened the duffel bag he’d been carrying between our houses since August and started taking his clothes out.
His grandmother stayed quiet until he finished. Then she handed me her phone. Months earlier, her daughter had texted her after she’d offered to move into the basement: “Please stop asking. The whole point of giving you Wyatt’s room was to start getting him used to not having a permanent place here.” Underneath it, Wyatt’s father had sent another message from his own phone: “Exactly. He needs to understand this isn’t going to be his home forever.”
