Jeff was playing host now, clapping backs, refilling glasses, trying to control the energy of the room like a cheap game show host.
At 6:20, mom arrived.
Her entrance was calculated as always. Designer scarf, oversized sunglasses despite the sun setting, a soft lipped smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
She walked straight past me, offering a cool nod that landed somewhere between hello and you ruined my birthday.
No hug, no words.
Dinner was announced shortly after. Long table, buffet style, with everyone seated tight to accommodate the crowd.
I took a seat toward the middle, visible but not central. Jeff stood at the head.
Before we eat, he began lifting his glass.
“I just want to say thank you to everyone who came. It’s been a rough couple of weeks, but I think we can all agree family is family, and no matter what’s happened, we’re stronger together.”
A few scattered claps, some polite nods. Clare smirked.
Then Jeff added, “And I think we all owe Adam an apology for how things went down.”
The room quieted.
My heart thutdded, but not from emotion from suspicion.
Adam.
Jeff continued, “I know the party didn’t go the way you hoped, but we’ve all had time to reflect, and I think we’re ready to move forward, right?”
He looked at me.
Everyone looked at me.
I glanced down the table. My mother was picking Lynn off her napkin. Clare was scrolling her phone beneath the tablecloth.
I waited, counted to five in my head.
“Do you really want to move forward?” I asked calmly. “Or do you just want the bank back open?”
Jeff blinked. “That’s not fair.”