Tiffany stared at him.
“And you ate every dinner.”
“Yes,” he said.
The word quieted the room.
“I did. I sat there while she got up six times. I watched you hand her things to wash, and sometimes I handed her mine.”
Margaret looked down. She had imagined an apology so often that hearing the beginning of one made her want to escape.
Kevin’s voice became rough.
“I let it happen because it was easier for me.”
Tiffany pushed back her chair.
“So now this is all my fault.”
“No,” Kevin said. “My part is mine. The invitation you sent yesterday is yours.”
Elaine took out her phone.
“I’m calling everyone. They need the truth before they travel.”
“Please don’t embarrass me.”
“You’ve put Margaret in the position of embarrassing herself or working until she drops. I won’t help you do that.”
Tiffany turned to Margaret one last time.
“You’d really let twenty-five people lose Christmas over some cooking?”
Margaret picked up the schedule.
For a moment, she could see herself obeying it. Setting an alarm before dawn. Pulling hot pans from the oven. Smiling when someone called Tiffany a wonderful hostess.
She folded the page and handed it back.
“You invited them. You serve them.”
Then she looked at Kevin.
“I’m going to Ruth’s for an hour. When I come home, I need my kitchen empty.”
He nodded.
This time, she didn’t wait to see whether he would choose her.
She put on her coat and left him to face what his wife had planned.
Ruth opened the door holding a tea towel.
Margaret made it as far as the hallway before she began to cry.
There was nothing graceful about it. Her nose ran. She couldn’t finish a sentence. Ruth took her coat and stood beside her without asking her to explain.
Eventually, Margaret whispered, “I thought he might never come back.”
Ruth guided her toward a chair.
“He knows where you live.”
When Margaret returned home, the kitchen was empty.
The schedule was gone. Her mug stood washed beside the sink.
A message from Kevin waited on her phone.
Everyone has been told. Dinner is at our apartment. Elaine and I are organizing food. Your house is off the invitation.
Below it came another message.
I’m sorry I made you prove you meant no.
Margaret sat down before replying.
Thank you for fixing what you could.
