“This is exactly what I expected from you,” she snapped. “You show up in that plain dress—probably the only nice thing you own. You take a taxi because you can’t even afford a car. And now this tiny box? What is it? A McDonald’s gift card?”
She flung the box at me. It slid across the table, scratching the cheap surface. Adam and Joyce giggled behind their hands. Some guests shifted uncomfortably; others seemed entertained. Peter continued eating dessert, oblivious.
I calmly picked up the box, brushing crumbs off the wrapping. Silence filled the room. Everyone waited to see my next move.
“You know what’s funny, Mom?” I said evenly. “Inside this little box is a receipt for a luxury vacation to Australia. First-class flights. Seven-star resort. Everything included. Worth twenty thousand dollars.”
Mom turned pale. Joyce dropped her fork with a loud clatter.
“That… that’s not possible,” Mom stuttered. “You can’t afford that. You’re lying.”
I laughed softly.
“You’d know what I can afford if you’d ever cared about my life in the last thirteen years. But since you didn’t, here’s an update: I’m Senior Director at Eric Marketing Group. I own an apartment in the city. And the taxi you mocked? I took it because I didn’t want to leave my Mercedes parked in this neighborhood.”
Adam’s jaw dropped. Joyce’s smile disappeared.
“And since you think I’m such a failure,” I continued, slipping the box back into my purse, “and clearly don’t want anything from me, I won’t bother you anymore. Enjoy the TV. I hear the screen is almost as good as the one in my home theater.”
I stood and walked out with my head held high. The sound of my heels echoed through the quiet room. No one said a word.
The restaurant hostess called a taxi for me, and I went straight to Aunt Helen’s house. She was already waiting, two steaming cups of tea on the coffee table. I told her everything that had happened.
“Some people never change,” she said, shaking her head. “Your mother has always cared more about appearances than actually being a good person.”
We were still talking when my phone rang. An unknown number, but I knew immediately who it was.
“Betty, sweetheart.”
Mom’s voice was overly sweet.
I had no idea how she got my number.
“I’ve been thinking about what happened.”
“Have you?” I asked calmly.
“Yes,” she said. “I realize I may have spoken too soon. If you’re still willing to give me that gift, I’d love to accept it. We could use this as a fresh start. I want to be in your life again. We’re family.”
“No,” I said, finally seeing everything clearly. “We’re not really family. We’re just people who share DNA. You don’t want to fix anything. You just want the vacation.”
Then I hung up.
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