Roasted chicken.
Green beans.
Potatoes.
She smiled.
Marcus entered.
“You should eat.”
“So should you.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“That has never stopped you.”
He almost smiled.
Then his face tightened.
“Mom.”
Ruth sat.
Marcus remained standing.
“I didn’t know you still owned the restaurant.”
“That is obvious.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I thought you knew.”
“How?”
“You grew up here.”
“It had a different name.”
“I sent you articles when we remodeled.”
“I thought you were on the board.”
Ruth shook her head.
“You do not listen when I talk about my work.”
Marcus looked stung.
Ruth took one bite of chicken.
It had gone slightly dry.
She chewed slowly.
Marcus sat across from her.
“You’re right.”
Ruth looked at him.
“I don’t want you to say that because you feel guilty.”
“I’m saying it because it’s true.”
He glanced around the kitchen.
“When Dad died, I assumed you sold everything.”
“I sold his share of the distribution business.”
“I knew that.”
“This restaurant was always mine.”
Marcus frowned.
