I brushed off her tone.
Inside, her parents, Gerald and Elaine, were sitting in the dining room.
Elaine gave me a small wave.
“Dorothy. Did you drive all the way from Barrie in that little car?”
“I certainly did.”
“How brave.”
She smiled politely before returning to her conversation.
Then Maya ran downstairs and threw her arms around my waist.
“Grandma! Did you make the cheesy ones?”
“I did, sweetheart.”
She squealed happily.
For a moment, everything felt worthwhile.
I went into the kitchen, carved the ham, arranged the slices on a large platter, and transferred the potatoes into Christa’s serving dish.
Then I looked toward the dining table.
Five plates.
I counted again.
Gerald.
Elaine.
Christa.
Owen.
Maya.
I wasn’t included.
Before I could ask about it, Christa entered the kitchen.
She noticed where I was looking.
Then she pointed toward the refrigerator.
“Dorothy, there’s plenty of food left over from earlier this week. Tonight’s dinner is for our guests.”
