I frowned.
“Thomas is an investor in the business.”
I stared at him.
“He’s been considering putting money in.”
“And?”
“He thinks I’m doing better than I am.”
Understanding arrived slowly.
“You didn’t want me saying something.”
“Not intentionally.”
“But I might mention the mortgage.”
“Yes.”
I sat.
Michael’s face was red.
“You excluded me because you were afraid I’d accidentally reveal that your mother was paying your mortgage.”
“Yes.”
There was no defense in him now.
Only shame.
I thought about the table I had not sat at.
Thomas and Diana.
The elegant dinner.
Jennifer saying I did not fit.
I thought I understood the cruelty then.
Now I saw fear underneath it.
Not enough to excuse it.
Enough to explain why my son had disappeared into silence.
“Did Jennifer know that was your reason?”
“Yes.”
“And she agreed?”
“Yes.”
I nodded slowly.
“That was ugly, Michael.”
“I know.”
“No. I need you to hear me.”
He looked at me.
“You let me believe you were ashamed of who I was when really you were ashamed of what you were hiding.”
His eyes filled.
“Yes.”
“That was cowardly.”
“Yes.”
I had never heard him accept criticism like that.
