"No. According to our son, you promised he wouldn't have to worry about tuition."
"I said I'd do what I could."
"That's not what Dustin heard."
Stephen shrugged.
"He misunderstood."
I laughed once, a short, bitter sound.
"He permanently altered his body because he misunderstood?"
"I never forced him."
"You didn't have to."
Barbra slowly set the towel she had been folding onto the coffee table.
"Stephen."
He ignored her.
I didn't.
"Did you tell him getting your wife's portrait tattooed would show Barbra she was finally part of the family?"
He hesitated.
"Yes."
"And did you connect that conversation to paying for college?"
"I said we'd talk about tuition afterward."
"There it is."
Stephen frowned.
"What?"
"You made him think one depended on the other."
"It was motivation."
"No."
"It was manipulation."
His expression hardened.
"He's 18."
"Exactly."
"He's old enough to make decisions."
"He's young enough to trust his father."
That landed.
For the first time since I'd arrived, Stephen looked away.
Barbra broke the silence.
"Did Dustin really think you were paying for all of college?"
Stephen didn't answer.
She asked again.
"Stephen."
He sighed.
"He got carried away."
My anger shifted.
Until that moment, I had blamed Barbra almost as much as Stephen.
Now I saw the confusion on her face.
She hadn't wanted this either.
She looked sick.
"I never asked for a tattoo," she whispered.
"I know."
She stared at her husband.
"I told you I wanted us to feel like a family."
Stephen threw up his hands.
"And I tried to fix it."
"You used Dustin."
"I included him."
"You bargained with him."
Barbra's voice cracked on the last word.
Stephen looked between us as though neither of us appreciated his effort.
"I was trying to make everyone happy."
"You were trying to make yourself look like the hero," I said.
He scoffed.
"Oh, please."
"No, listen to yourself. You couldn't convince your wife she belonged, so you convinced our son to prove it with his body."
"I didn't make him."
"You offered him something he desperately wanted."
Stephen opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
"I thought he'd appreciate the help."
"What help?"
"I was going to contribute."
"How much?"
He hesitated.
"I hadn't decided."
I stared at him.
"You hadn't decided."
"It depended on my finances."
"So you promised an amount you hadn't even planned."
"I never gave a number."
"You didn't need to."
Barbra sank onto the sofa.
"Oh, my God."
Stephen turned toward her.
"Don't start."
She looked up at him.
"How could you let him believe that?"
"He assumed."
"You let him."
The front door opened behind me.
I turned.
Dustin stood frozen in the entryway.
