“It’s my butterfly party!”
“Yes, dear. I can see that.”
Margaret barely glanced at the child before turning to Hannah.
“Where is the proper dessert?”
Hannah pointed toward the kitchen.
“The cake is on the counter. We’ll bring it out after lunch.”
Margaret followed her inside.
She stared at the homemade cake for several seconds.
“You made this?”
“Yes.”
“From scratch?”
Hannah nodded.
Margaret leaned closer, examining the frosting.
“Daniel, did you know your wife was planning to serve this?”
Daniel, who had been filling a pitcher with lemonade, looked uncomfortable.
“Mom, it’s a birthday cake.”
“It looks like something from a school bake sale.”
Vanessa laughed softly.
Hannah felt heat rise in her cheeks.
“Lily chose the design.”
“Children choose all sorts of things,” Margaret replied. “Adults are supposed to know better.”
She took out her phone.
“I’ll call the country club. They can send over one of their cakes.”
“That’s unnecessary,” Hannah said. “We already have everything we need.”
Margaret lowered her phone.
“Don’t be difficult. I’m trying to save you from embarrassing yourself.”
Hannah turned away before she said something she would regret.
She returned to the backyard and joined the children.
For the next hour, Margaret continued making small, cutting remarks.
She criticized the paper plates.
