Rose set the pitcher down. “You can use our names.”
Lisa blinked. “Of course. Rose, May, and June.”
“Why now, Lisa?”
She looked at me. “I told you. I want to reconnect.”
“After 20 years?”
“I was young.”
“You can use our names.”
“You were old enough to leave with your purse and talk about finding a good marriage.”
May whispered, “Grandpa.”
I kept my eyes on Lisa. “Why now?”
Lisa dabbed her napkin against her mouth. “Because people ask questions.”
Rose’s voice softened. “What people?”
“Why now?”
“My circle. Friends. My husband’s friends. They notice things.”
“What things?” June asked.
Lisa sighed. “That my daughters aren’t in my life. It looks strange.”
The room went still.
“So this is about your reputation,” I said.
“That my daughters aren’t in my life.”
“It’s not wrong to want peace.”
June gave a short laugh. “That’s not peace. That’s damage control.”
Lisa turned to the girls. “You understand, don’t you? You’re grown now.”
For one terrible moment, I thought they might nod.
Rose stood first, lifting her glass.
“You understand, don’t you?”
Lisa smiled like she’d won.
“We don’t mind talking to you, Mom,” Rose said.
“See, Dad? They want me around.”
“But we do mind pretending,” Rose finished.
May stood beside her. “You sent gifts. Grandpa gave us everything else.”
“They want me around.”
My throat tightened. “Girls…”
“Let us,” June said. “You taught us the truth matters.”
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Lisa pushed back her chair. “I’m still your mother.”
Rose nodded. “You’re the woman who gave birth to us.”
“I’m still your mother.”
“That means something.”
“It does,” May said. “But it doesn’t mean everything.”
Lisa’s eyes hardened. “I bought those gifts to make up for lost time.”
June folded her arms. “Then you should’ve asked what we needed.”
“I gave you beautiful things.”
“I hate pearls,” Rose said.
“That means something.”
“I never wore the coat,” May added.
Lisa stared at them. “Where are the gifts?”
Rose took a breath.
“We sold them.”
Lisa’s hand froze on her glass. “You sold my gifts?”
“We sold them.”
“We sold what you used to buy your way in,” June said.
May slid an envelope toward me. “The money’s in an account for Grandpa. He put off dental work, roof repairs, and retirement because of us. We’re giving part of that back.”
I stared at the envelope. “Girls…”
“You don’t get to argue,” June said. Her voice cracked at the edge. “You’ve argued with bills long enough.”
“Girls…”
Lisa pushed back from the table. “You ungrateful girls.”
That word hit the room like a slammed door.
My chair scraped the floor as I stood.
“Don’t call them that in my house.”
Lisa stared at me. “Your house?”
“You ungrateful girls.”
