Once Emma’s hair was brushed aside and held in place with sparkly barrettes, Melanie presented Keith with a nice shirt and slacks. He was not nearly as thrilled with his selection, but he dressed up for her anyway.
“And we can’t forget about Mama,” Melanie said, her voice catching as she handed me a bag.
Inside was a soft, dove-gray silk dress. The neckline was simple and elegant, and the waist cinched just enough to remind me I still had one. It wasn’t flashy or showy, just quietly expensive. And I loved it. But I didn’t want to.
“Go on,” she urged softly. “You deserve to feel beautiful.”
The restaurant Melaniehad chosen for dinner was one I’d been to before, many times, but back then it had felt normal. Now I was hyperaware of the elegance, of how pretentious it all seemed. Sizzler—that was what Scott and I considered an expensive dinner. And honestly? The steak there was surprisingly tasty.
Melanie looked right at home, smoothing her napkin onto her lap while Keith tapped his knife against his glass, fascinated by the echo. Emma, on the other hand, had already claimed the butter knife as a wand.
“Okay,” Melanie began brightly, sliding into teacher mode. “Let’s learn something useful, shall we? This,” she said, lifting a fork from the outside edge of her place setting, “is for salad. You work your way inward as the courses progress.”
Keith frowned at the lineup of utensils. “What if you only want dessert?”
“Then you’ve found your people,” I muttered, picking up a marinated olive with my fingers and popping it in my mouth.
Melanie shot me a horrified look. “Michelle, you could atleast pretend to care about cutlery. I’m trying to give your children a proper education. And eating with your fingers? Mother would drop dead.”
“If only it were that easy.”
Melanie laughed, and it hit me how much I’d missed that sound. For a moment, the space between us felt light again—like in the old days, before everything got complicated.
But peace never lasted long in a Carver setting because that was when Mother appeared, not walking into a room so much as arriving.
“Mother,” Melanie breathed, straightening.
My eyes narrowed, accusing. “You told her.”
Melanie’s face paled. “I didn’t!”
“Your sister didn’t tell me anything,” Mother cut in. “And that’s something we’ll need to discuss, Melanie.” Her gaze met mine, and for a brief moment, she seemed… pleased. “The hotel manager thought it best to inform us. Thank goodness he did. We have so much to discuss.”
We did?
Mother turned her attention to the children, and everything about her expression softened. It wasn’t warm, exactly, but there was an unmistakable pause, like she understood what her unbending resolve had cost her.
“And these must be my grandchildren.”
Emma’s eyes widened, caught somewhere between curiosity and awe. Perhaps she thought Mother was the queen of the kingdom. And she would be right.
“I brought you both something,” she said, reaching into a shopping bag and retrieving two impressively wrapped gifts. She handed one to each child.
Keith tore his open immediately, revealing a tiny Steiff bear, caramel-colored with a brass button in its ear.
Emma’s package held a white bunny, soft and delicate, wearing a velvet bow.
“They’re from Germany,” Mother said, her tone effortlessly casual yet unmistakably formal.
Keith held his up proudly. “It’s got a button in its ear.”
“That means it’s special,” she said, and there was something like warmth in her smile. “You’re supposed to keep it forever.”
Emma pressed the bunny to her heart. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“You’re very welcome, darling. You have lovely manners.” Mother’s eyes flicked to Melanie. “Why don’t you take the children to see the dessert tray? The chef does something quite special with spun sugar.”
My sister glanced my way, asking for permission. As much as I didn’t like my kids away from my side, I also didn’t want them present for this conversation with their grandmother. I nodded.
