June raised an eyebrow.
“From me?”
“From all of us.”
Claire sat.
“We want you involved.”
June’s heart softened.
“But we don’t want to assume you’re free every time we need childcare.”
“Good.”
“And we don’t want you offering every time we complain about something being expensive.”
June opened her mouth.
Claire pointed at her.
“No.”
June closed it.
Ethan smiled.
“We want Grandma.”
June looked at him.
“Not a backup bank account.”
Her throat tightened.
“And not staff,” Claire added.
June looked down.
Thirty-two years at the Beaumont had taught her how easily service became invisible.
Someone entered a room after she had cleaned it and experienced only cleanliness.
They did not see the work.
Family could do the same.
But visibility did not require resentment.
Sometimes it only required people to stop pretending the room reset itself.
June looked at them.
“I can try.”
Claire smiled.
“So can we.”
Dinner was simple.
Pasta.
Salad.
Store-bought bread.
No engagement-party champagne.
No audience.
Afterward, Claire brought dessert.
Ethan began clearing plates.
June stood automatically.
“I’ll help.”
