“The outside accountant already has the records.”
His father’s chair creaked.
“You sent these outside the family?”
“The accountant works for the company.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes,” I said. “I do.”
My mother reached for her water and missed the stem slightly. I steadied the glass, and that small movement brought me back to her wet clothes, her cold hands.
I had spent too long letting them make her wait.
“We’re leaving,” I said.
Daniel stood immediately.
“Wait.”
I helped my mother out of her chair.
“Apologize to them.”
He looked at her blouse. Then at my father’s glasses.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
My father waited.
Daniel swallowed.
“I should have stopped her.”
“Before tonight,” my father replied.
“Yes.”
Madison folded her arms.
“I’m not apologizing while she accuses me of stealing.”
“No one asked you to apologize to me,” I said.
The restaurant manager had approached quietly with folded towels. She offered my mother a private room to clean up, without asking her to describe what had happened.
My mother accepted.
My father took her elbow, then paused beside me.
“We’ll be right there.”
He pointed toward the short hallway.
He was giving me a choice without leaving me alone.
Daniel stepped closer.
“Don’t send anything else until we talk.”
Behind him, his mother reached for the documents.
I gathered them first.
“Why did you ask what I found?”
He blinked.
“You said there had been disrespect.”
“No. Before I showed you anything, you asked what I found.”
Madison looked at him.
The movement was tiny. It was enough.
Daniel rubbed his mouth.
