Her eyes widened.
Then she laughed so hard she had to lean against the wall.
I laughed too.
The sound surprised both of us.
“Okay,” she said when she could breathe again. “Fair.”
I took the card and sat down.
No one asked me to cook.
No one asked me to serve.
When the food arrived, Harper carried a platter past me, stopped, and said, “Would you like anything?”
Not, Could you get something.
Not, You know where everything is.
Would you like anything?
I looked at the crowded table, my son talking with his cousins, Denise cutting bread, Harper waiting for my answer without impatience.
“Yes,” I said.
“What?”
“A slice of that pie later.”
She smiled.
“I can handle that.”
And this time, she did.
