Four years before I married Buffford.
His family never understood much about it.
Rolene called it “the laundry thing.”
Buffford once told them my business earned considerably more than his title-company job.
Nobody reacted.
Then he laughed along with them, and after that he never corrected their assumptions again.
Eventually, neither did I.
The money going to his family started with real needs.
When Willadine’s landlord sold her building in 2021, she needed somewhere to live.
.
Buffford said she might have to move in with us.
I found a ground-floor condo because of her hip.
The payment, taxes, and association fee came to a little over $800 a month.
At first, Buffford paid half.
Then one month I covered his half.
Then another.
Eventually, I covered all of it.
Willadine thanked her son for buying her a home.
He let her.
In 2022, Rolene’s car insurance lapsed.
Her new premium was $190 a month.
I put it on autopay.
Then there was Marcel’s school.
Seaggraves Academy.
He started there in third grade.
Tuition eventually reached $14,000 a year.
Rolene called me from work one afternoon because the enrollment deadline was approaching and she didn’t have the deposit.
She emailed the form.
I filled it out on the tailgate of my truck beside a cart of surgical gowns.
Page two.
Line nine.
Responsible party.
I wrote my own name.
I signed again the following year.
And again seven weeks before Buffford asked me for a divorce.
Three contracts.