“Yes.”
“At your age?”
The table fell quiet.
Then she laughed.
“Relax. I just mean health matters when you’re older.”
I took a bite.
“Excellent cake.”
That annoyed her.
So she pushed further.
“You know what Daniel told me? He feels guilty because you’re alone. That’s probably why he keeps inviting you.”
Daniel’s head snapped toward her.
“I never said that.”
Vanessa ignored him.
“I think parents sometimes need to understand when their children have their own families.”
I set down my fork.
“Meaning?”
She leaned back.
“Meaning this is our home, our restaurant, our life. You don’t need to keep inserting yourself.”
Daniel whispered, “Vanessa, stop.”
But she didn’t.
She had finally reached the sentence she had clearly been saving.
“And frankly, if you weren’t Daniel’s mother, you’re not someone I would ever choose to have at my table.”
Silence.
Something inside me became completely still.
Not broken.
Finished.
I stood.
Vanessa smiled.
“Leaving?”
“No.”
I walked to the entryway, retrieved my handbag, and returned with the folder.
I placed it in front of Daniel.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“Restaurant expenses.”
Vanessa’s smile disappeared.
