My son called to say they’d moved to another state last week and « forgotten » to tell me… so I wished him luck, hung up, and opened the folder I’d been secretly creating.

Ryan and Vanessa arrived two hours late, dressed like successful people.

Vanessa wore an ivory silk blouse that probably cost more than two months of my mortgage. Ryan carried a bottle of wine that didn’t look tacky. They looked refined, impeccable, and untouchable.

« Sorry for the delay, » Vanessa said with a smile I knew all too well. « We had breakfast with the investors. You know how it goes in business. »

Patty had them sit at the head table.

At one point, as if on the sidelines, I found myself in my distant cousins’ house, near the kitchen.

Vanessa took control of the room and began talking about promotions, the new SUV, and Europe in the summer. Then, as freely as a breath, she let the topic go.

We’re also considering moving to a bigger house. The apartment is too small.

Ryan nodded enthusiastically. « Yes, we’re looking for a nicer neighborhood. Something with a yard. Maybe three bedrooms. »

Three bedrooms. One for them. One as an office. One for guests.

No one said anything about where I was.

Then Patty—God bless her—said softly, « Have you thought about a place where Stella could stay too? So she can be close to the baby when it’s born? »

There was a deafening silence.

Vanessa laughed softly, as if Patty had told a sweet joke.

« Oh, Patty. Stella’s doing well in her house. She has her memories, her independence. I don’t think she’d want to move at her age, would she, Mrs. Stella? »

Everyone turned to me. I sat there, near the kitchen, like a second-class guest at my own family’s table.

« No, of course not, » I lied, my throat tightening. « I’m happy where I am. »

Vanessa smiled as if she had won.

Ryan didn’t even look at me.

As people hugged each other goodbye, I walked over to my son and touched his arm.

Son, can we talk for a moment?

He looked at Vanessa first, as if he needed her permission. She glanced at her watch.

Ryan, we have to go. We agreed to meet the Martins at six o’clock.

« Mom, » Ryan said in a flat voice, « can we reschedule for another day? We’re late.