Melissa frowned.
« What is it? »
Alan tried to close the lid.
His hands shook almost as badly as mine.
« Nothing. »
« Let’s go outside. »
« I think everyone should see it, » I replied quietly.
An older guest gently lifted the lid again.
Inside lay legal documents.
« These are eviction papers. »
Another guest removed a folded baby bib.
A handwritten note remained pinned to it.
« My hands carried you into the life you have now. »
Silence spread across the room.
Alan looked at me with desperate eyes.
« I’ll fix this. »
« I promise. »
« Please don’t do this here. »
« You didn’t mind humiliating me here. »
« It was Melissa. »
« I was only trying to keep the peace. »
Melissa spun toward him.
« Excuse me? »
« You told me to move her. »
« You said she’d embarrass us. »
Several guests exchanged uncomfortable glances.
One woman quietly asked,
« So you really moved your mother because she has Parkinson’s? »
No one answered.
Another guest looked at the documents again.
« You don’t own the house? »
Alan lowered his head.
I felt no anger anymore.
Only grief.
I looked at my son.
The little boy I’d raised was gone.
In his place stood a man who valued appearances more than compassion.
« Goodbye, Alan. »
I turned toward the exit.
Behind me, I heard his chair crash to the floor.
« Mom! »
He caught up with me near the entrance and dropped to his knees.
« Please. »
« Don’t leave like this. »
I stopped.
« I gave you everything I had. »
« Tonight… »
« …you gave me a table beside the kitchen. »
« So I’m giving you thirty days. »
His face collapsed.
« Thirty days? »
« To leave my house. »
Tears rolled freely down his face.
« I’ll change. »
« I swear. »
« I believe you want to. »
« But wanting isn’t the same as choosing. »
« You already made your choice. »
I stepped through the restaurant doors into the cool night air.
For the first time in a very long time…
…my hands were still.
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