“She certainly seems to be taking credit for a lot of work.”
I remained silent.
Ruth set down her tea.
“Olivia, tell me something. Who paid for that beautiful room?”
I hesitated.
“I did.”
“And the decorations?”
“Me.”
“The flowers?”
“Me.”
“The food and champagne?”
“It’s being charged to my card.”
She watched me quietly.
Then she asked another question.
“Do you know what I’ve noticed about this family?”
I shook my head.
“They’ve become so accustomed to you carrying every responsibility that they’ve stopped noticing the weight you’re holding.”
My throat tightened.
“I don’t mind helping.”
Ruth reached across the table and touched my hand.
“Yes, sweetheart. You do mind. You’ve simply spent so many years pretending otherwise that you’ve almost convinced yourself.”
I looked away.
She continued gently.
“You are allowed to stop, Olivia. You don’t have to carry everything forever.”
At the time, I didn’t fully understand what she meant.
But less than twenty-four hours later, those words would return to me.
On the afternoon of the party, I arrived at Alderwood three hours before the guests were expected.
I checked every detail.
The flowers.
The table settings.
