“You never told me.”
“You disappeared.”
Mom lowered her eyes.
“Life happened.”
“I know.”
Alaric glanced toward the kitchen.
“Give me five minutes.”
“For what?”
“Your actual dinner.”
Mom laughed.
“I’m not sure I can eat anything now.”
“Then take it home.”
He disappeared through the kitchen doors.
A few minutes later, he returned carrying the plate himself.
Fresh pasta.
Roasted vegetables.
Bread.
And beside everything else…
Another slice of tiramisu.
Mom covered her face.
“Alaric.”
“What?”
“I already had dessert.”
He placed the plate in front of her and smiled.
“Maybe don’t skip dessert this time.”
The entire restaurant burst into laughter.
Mom laughed too.
Not the nervous little laugh she had learned to use whenever she felt uncomfortable.
Not a polite laugh designed to make other people feel better.
She laughed until tears rolled down her face.
Then she picked up her fork.
She took another bite of tiramisu, closed her eyes, and smiled.
On the drive home, she stayed quiet for several minutes.
Finally, she looked toward me.
“Daphne?”
“Yeah?”
“I meant what I said earlier.”
“What?”
She looked out the window.
“Maybe I should go out more often.”
This time, I didn’t pretend the words didn’t mean everything to me.
“I’d really like that.”
Mom smiled.
“So would I.”
