The dinner itself was quiet, the sound of silver clinking against porcelain filling the pauses between Beatrice’s observations. Caroline had made a pot roast, but Grant only picked at his carrots.
“I saw the Mercedes was parked near the gallery yesterday,” Beatrice said, taking a small sip of her water. “Did you finally purchase that painting we discussed?”
“Not yet, Mother,” Grant said. “We have other investments to finalize first.”
“The girls are looking a bit pale, Caroline,” Beatrice said, her voice carrying a high-handed, patronizing sweetness. “They really must get more fresh air.”
“They spent three hours at the park yesterday, Beatrice,” Caroline said, keeping her hands folded neatly in her lap under the table.
“A park is hardly the same as a proper country estate,” Beatrice said, fanning herself faster. “A young family needs room to breathe.”
Grant smirked, his eyes never leaving the screen of his phone as his thumb flicked across the glass.
“Mother is right,” Grant said, his booming laugh muffled by his hand. “We should look at the Chester County listings again.”
