“Mom, stop. You can’t do this to us. We don’t have the money to cover this.”
I gently but firmly removed her hand from my coat.
“Then you shouldn’t have ordered the lobster, Sarah. Enjoy your evening.”
I turned my back on them and walked away.
I didn’t rush.
I kept my spine completely straight and my head held high.
As I navigated through the crowded dining room, the chaos erupted behind me.
I heard Brenda’s shrill voice demanding explanations and David frantically stammering to the waiter about splitting the check across multiple credit cards.
I pushed through the front doors, and the cool night air hit my face.
It felt incredibly refreshing.
The valet asked if I needed a taxi, and I nodded.
As I stood on the curb, my phone began to buzz furiously in my pocket.
It was Sarah.
I silenced it.
A few seconds later, it vibrated again.
David.
I powered the device down completely and dropped it back into my purse.
When the cab arrived, I gave the driver my address and leaned back against the seat.
I watched the city lights blur past the window.
A traditional mother might have been crying right now, wondering where she went wrong, feeling immense guilt for leaving her child in a humiliating public situation.
I felt none of those things.
I felt incredibly light.
I had seen the true face of my daughter tonight.
In a strange way, she had given me a gift. She had completely cured me of the useless hope that we could ever have a normal relationship.