“She is almost an adult. She needs to learn that plans change.”
“Plans changed nine days ago.”
Mom’s expression flickered.
I held up the photograph.
“You booked Bellweather last week.”
“It was tentative.”
“The confirmation date is behind you.”
“I was deciding what would be best.”
“For whom?”
“The family.”
“You told everyone June refused to attend.”
Her mouth tightened.
“Linda should mind her own business.”
“You told them the dinner was my gift.”
“You always pay for my birthday.”
“I paid almost six hundred dollars for the food inside this house. That was my gift.”
Margaret crossed her arms.
“Unlock the card and reimburse your relatives. Then we can move past this.”
“No.”
“What?”
“I am not paying anyone. I am also no longer paying your bills.”
The porch became completely still.
My mother searched my face for the familiar hesitation that had always followed my anger.
She did not find it.
Then June opened the door and stepped outside holding a folder.
“Grandma,” she said, “you still owe us for the food.”
Mom looked frightened for the first time.
June opened the folder.
“The ingredients cost five hundred eighty-seven dollars and forty cents. Mom paid because you promised reimbursement.”
“I said we would settle things after the party.”
“The party is over.”
“There was no party here.”
“There was,” June said. “You chose not to attend it.”
My mother drew herself upright.
“I am your grandmother. You do not give me an invoice.”
June’s hands tightened around the folder.
“If I was family when you wanted free cooking, I should have been family when you decided who could celebrate.”
Mom looked at me.
“Do you hear how she is speaking?”
“I hear her clearly.”