Declan gave a sarcastic laugh.

“Assuming your mother doesn’t spend every dollar fixing that place.”

I looked at him sharply.

“Declan, please don’t say things like that in front of Owen.”

Our son stopped eating.

“It’s not a bad house, Dad. Mom said Grandma Rose loved it.”

Declan shrugged.

“Loving something doesn’t automatically make it worth the money.”

Owen thought for a moment.

“Would you sell your Mustang if someone said it wasn’t worth fixing?”

Declan looked surprised.

“That’s different, buddy.”

“Why?”

“Because I know what I’m doing with the car.”

I placed my fork on the table.

“And I know what I’m doing with the house.”

The conversation ended there, but Owen barely touched the rest of his dinner.

That hurt more than Declan’s criticism.

I could tolerate him questioning my choices.

What I couldn’t accept was watching our son become embarrassed about something that had made him so happy.