There Was No Seat for Me at the Luxury Restaurant. By Dessert, They Regretted It

Something in me went very still.

“Okay,” I said.

Rebecca blinked. “Okay…?”

“I’ll go across the street.”

For a fraction of a second, my mother’s practiced smile did something unintended at the edges.

“Wanda, don’t be—”

I was already turning.

I did not reach for my gift. I did not apologize. I did not ask if there was perhaps a way to fit an extra chair somewhere continue reading …