“Keep talking, Barbara,” I said calmly. “You’ve got about three hours left to run your mouth.”
Tom laughed nervously. “Derek, come on, man.”
“Three hours,” I repeated.
Barbara narrowed her eyes. “What is that supposed to mean?”
I did not answer her. I reached over and placed my hand gently on Ellie’s shoulder. “Finish your dinner, sweetheart. We’re leaving soon.”
Barbara scoffed. “I’m just being honest. The girl needs to know.”
“Her name,” I said, my voice lower now, “is Ellie. And you just called my daughter a disappointment to her face.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.”
I stood. The chair scraped across the linoleum, loud in the sudden silence. “Come on, Ellie. I’ll get your jacket.”
Ellie slid from her chair immediately, like she had been waiting for permission to escape. Barbara’s voice followed us. “You’re being ridiculous.”
I took my keys from my pocket. “No,” I said. “I’m being three years late.”
At the door, I looked back one last time. “You have enjoyed a life I’ve been paying for because Leah asked me to take care of you. But Leah never heard you speak to our daughter like that.”