Chapter 21 - THE LAST FAMILY DINNER AT FIORELLI HOUSE
Before the eastern redevelopment opened, we held one private dinner in the old dining room.
Mother.
Me.
Several cousins.
Audrey invited as a former employee? Maybe too much. She declined because working.
Veronica was not invited.
Mother noticed.
“Why?”
“Family dinner.”
“She was family.”
“Was.”
Mother looked at me.
“You’re still angry.”
“Yes.”
“Fine.”
No guilt.
Then later she asked if Veronica could attend dessert.
I said:
“Your guest.”
Mother called.
Veronica came.
Public boundaries had softened enough.
No one sat at a head table.
Mother insisted on the chair nearest the kitchen because bathrooms were easier.
Practical rank.
Veronica arrived with flowers.
Mother said:
“No expensive gifts.”
“They’re grocery-store roses.”
“Good.”
Dinner.
No trust talk.
No Bellafonte.
Then dessert.
Mother told a story about my father falling into a fountain at a wedding.
Everyone laughed.
Veronica laughed too.
For one evening, no one competed over who mattered most.
Then Veronica left early.
She hugged Mother.
Shook my hand.
No longing performance.
We had been married.
May you like
Now we were not.
That could be complete without hatred.
