Of course.
The dining room looked almost unchanged from twenty years earlier.
Thomas, my father, sat quietly at the far end. His preferred approach to family conflict was waiting for it to pass without requiring him to participate.
Harper wore beige. Chase stood and shook my hand.
“Naomi,” he said. “Good to see you.”
His watch had changed. Cheaper this time, but still designed to project success.
Dinner began stiffly.
Nobody mentioned my house or Harper’s attempted move-in.
Instead, Mom filled plates and criticized my lifestyle.
“You’re too skinny. You work too hard. You need softer lighting in your kitchen.”
I let her talk.
Halfway through dinner, Chase cleared his throat and adjusted his watch.
“Our apartment downtown has gotten a little tight lately,” he said casually.
Harper smiled beside him.
“Babies absorb energy,” Chase continued. “And honestly, the city environment just feels stifling.”
Their building had a rooftop pool, concierge, and valet parking.
Mom jumped in.
“Well, Naomi has all that space,” she said brightly. “Four bedrooms for one person is excessive when you think about it.”
I sipped my wine.
Harper looked directly at me.
“Dad said you might deploy again next year.”
Thomas didn’t deny it.
“You don’t even use all that space,” Harper continued. “We need your house for the baby.”
Not could we stay temporarily.
Not could we discuss it.
Need.
Mom smiled as though the outcome had already been decided.
Naomi would give in.
Naomi always did.
I looked around the table.
Three people waiting for compliance.
One man staring at his plate.
Finally, I wiped my mouth.
“How exactly does that concern me?”
The room went silent.
Mom blinked.
“Naomi.”
“No,” I said calmly. “I’m trying to understand the logic here.”
Harper stiffened.
“You know what? Forget it.”
“No, seriously.”
I put down my napkin.
“You two chose an apartment you can’t afford. You’re having a baby you apparently don’t have room for. And somehow this becomes my emergency.”
Chase shifted.
“It’s about family.”
“Interesting,” I said, “because usually when people want something from me, they ask before painting my walls.”
Dad briefly looked up, then back down.
Harper’s eyes filled with tears.
“I cannot believe you hate this baby already.”
She had skipped straight from disagreement to accusing me of hating her unborn child.
Mom immediately reached for her hand.
“Sweetheart, calm down.”
