My son served me dog food at my own 70th birthday dinner… so I canceled the cards and exposed the secret he thought would stay buried…V
Potatoes.
And a three-milk cake from the bakery Helen loved.
I pictured a quiet dinner.
A chance for Brian to sit with me.
Maybe say thank you.
Maybe remember his mother.
Maybe remember I was still here.
Instead, I fell asleep upstairs.
When I woke, laughter echoed below.
Far too much laughter.
I came downstairs and froze at the doorway.
More than twenty people crowded my dining room.
Family.
Neighbors.
Brian’s friends.
Melissa’s friends.
People I barely knew.
Eating the food I paid for.
The meal I cooked.
And no one had called me.
I forced a smile.
“You started already?”
Silence lingered.
Then Brian looked up from the head of the table.
