Chapter 7
After Sophie returned to her seat, Melissa wiped beneath one eye.
“I really did think I was joking most of the time.”
“I know.”
“You never told me it bothered you.”
“I shouldn’t have needed to give you formal notification that insulting me bothered me.”
Scott looked down, hiding a smile.
Melissa almost smiled too.
“That sounded like me.”
“A little.”
For the first time all night, the tension broke without someone becoming the target.
Melissa leaned forward.
“Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
“Because whenever anyone challenged you, you made them look dramatic.”
She started to answer, then stopped.
Daniel said quietly, “She’s right.”
Melissa looked at him.
“I know.”
Those might have been the most sincere words she said all evening.
Dinner continued for another hour.
Nobody changed overnight.
Melissa still became defensive.
Diane still tried to change the subject when things got uncomfortable.
Daniel still hesitated before speaking.
People rarely transform during one dinner.
But a pattern can become visible in one evening.
And once everyone saw it, pretending became harder.
Before Melissa and Scott left, I was loading the dishwasher when Melissa entered the kitchen alone.“Need help?”
Normally, I would have said no.
Instead, I handed her a plate.
She rinsed it.
We worked quietly for a minute.
Then she said, “The chicken actually wasn’t bad.”
I looked at her.
She gave me a cautious smile.
“You might want to tell your mother that.”
“I will.”
She rinsed another plate.
Then added, “Your lasagna is still too salty.”
I stared at her.
She stared back.
For half a second, I wondered whether the entire evening had accomplished nothing.
Then she winced.
“Sorry. Reflex.”
I laughed.
So did she.
“Okay,” she said. “I’m going to have to work on that.”
“Yes.”
May you like
“Probably a lot.”
“Yes.”
