“Liam’s family too.”
“Not my guests.”
She shut the refrigerator harder than necessary.
“They already made plans.”
“You should have asked before they made them.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Are you seriously going to make this difficult?”
“I’m not making anything difficult.”
“My mother loves roast beef.”
I waited.
“And?”
“Scalloped potatoes too.”
I actually laughed.
Harper stared at me.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You know how to make both.”
“I do.”
“Great.”
She walked away.
I called after her.
“Harper.”
She stopped.
“I did not agree to cook.”
She looked over her shoulder.
“You’re going to let everyone show up without dinner?”
“They’re your guests.”
She shook her head.
“This is exactly what I mean.”
“What do you mean?”
“You make everything harder than it has to be.”
Then she left.
I watched her disappear upstairs.
I did not repeat myself.
She had heard me.
The next day, she went to a salon shortly after lunch.
Liam remained home.
He moved through the house cleaning nervously.
Around three, he came into the kitchen.
“Mom.”
I kept chopping vegetables for my own soup.
“Yeah?”
“Are you really not making dinner?”
“No.”
He leaned on the doorway.
“She thinks you are.”
“I told her I wasn’t.”
He closed his eyes briefly.
“She probably thought you were angry.”
“I was very clear.”
“Could we just get through tonight?”
I put down the knife.
“Meaning?”
“Make something simple.”
“For fourteen people?”
“I’ll help.”
“That isn’t the point.”
He sighed.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
He looked exhausted.
“I’m trying to keep everybody happy.”
“That is impossible.”
“I know that too.”
“Then stop trying.”
His expression softened.
“She’s my wife.”
“And I am your mother.”
“I know.”
“This isn’t about choosing between us.”
“It feels like it.”
“It feels that way because you refuse to tell her when she is wrong.”
He looked toward the hall.
I lowered my voice.
“She tried to turn my house into your financial plan.”
“I didn’t agree with that.”
“You also didn’t stop her.”
He flinched.
“I should have.”
“Yes.”
That single word seemed to hurt him.
I did not soften it.
He needed to feel something.
“I’m sorry.”
I studied his face.
“Are you?”
“Yes.”
“Then act differently.”
He nodded.
For a moment, I thought perhaps he would.
At six, Harper’s relatives began arriving.
The first car pulled into my driveway under a clear, freezing sky.
Then another followed.
Soon the street glittered with headlights and holiday lights.
People came carrying champagne, desserts, flowers, and wrapped bottles.
Several thanked me for hosting.
I corrected the first person.
“This is Harper’s gathering.”
He looked confused.
“Oh.”
Harper arrived shortly after the first guests.
Her hair had been styled.
Her makeup was perfect.
She swept through the house as though entering a venue prepared for her.
She hugged cousins.
She poured drinks.
She never asked about dinner.
That told me she still believed I would surrender.
I sat in the kitchen with my coffee.
From the next room, I heard her giving a tour.
“This room definitely needs brighter paint.”
Someone laughed.
Then I heard Denise.
“I always liked traditional colors.”
Harper replied quickly.
“We’ll modernize everything eventually.”
We.
I closed my eyes.
Another relative asked about the wall between the dining room and kitchen.
Harper explained how she wanted it removed.
Someone mentioned resale value.
She responded confidently.
“We’re not planning to sell anytime soon.”
I opened my eyes.
Even Liam looked uncomfortable.
He caught my gaze from across the living room.
This time, I held it.
He looked away.
At seven-thirty, the guests began drifting toward the dining room.
There was no food.
There were no serving dishes.
No roast beef.
No potatoes.
No appetizers from me.
Harper finally noticed.
She walked into the kitchen.
Her face was still pleasant.
“Where did you put everything?”
I sipped my coffee.
“What everything?”
“The food.”
“There isn’t any.”
She stared.
The pleasant expression vanished.
“You’re joking.”
“No.”
“You seriously didn’t cook?”
“I told you yesterday.”
Her eyes widened.
“You knew my family was coming.”
“Yes.”
“And you did nothing?”
“I stayed out of your event.”
Her breathing changed.
“Chelsea.”
I waited.
“Where is the food?”
“You keep asking the same question.”
Her cheeks reddened.
Behind her, voices softened.
People could hear us.
She realized that too.
Instead of lowering her voice, she raised it.
“You had one job tonight.”
