I watched through the front window as her expression shifted from confusion to disbelief to something I’d never seen on her face before.
Genuine shock.
She knocked on the door.
Not hard, just a polite little tap like she was visiting a neighbor.
“Ethan? Ethan, what are you doing? Open the door.”
I didn’t open the door.
I went back to the party.
Jenna was standing near the grill with her arms crossed, watching me with a look that was half concerned and half something else.
Something like relief.
“What just happened?” she asked quietly.
I told her all of it.
What my mother said, where Miles was standing, what his face looked like.
Jenna’s jaw tightened.
She looked over at Miles, who was sitting on the edge of the bounce house by himself.
Not bouncing.
Just sitting.
“Go be with him,” she said. “I’ll handle the party.”
I walked over and sat down next to Miles.
He didn’t say anything at first.
He just picked at the grass and took tiny sips of his lemonade.
Then he said very quietly, “Dad, does Grandma not like me?”
That sentence hit me like a freight train wrapped in barbed wire.
I put my arm around him and pulled him close.
“Miles, listen to me. Grandma said something really hurtful, and it was wrong. It wasn’t about you. It was about her. You are one of the most incredible people I’ve ever known. And I’m not just saying that because I’m your dad. I’m saying it because it’s true.”
He nodded, but I could tell he was processing.
10-year-olds are smarter than we give them credit for.
He wasn’t going to forget what he heard, and no amount of dad reassurance was going to erase it completely.
But I could be there.
I could make sure he knew he was seen, and I could make sure the person who hurt him was never in a position to do it again.
Chapter 4: Family fallout
Meanwhile, my mother was apparently losing her mind on the front lawn.
Garrett came inside after about 5 minutes looking uncomfortable, which for Garrett was unusual because the man has the emotional bandwidth of a cereal box.
“Hey, uh, Mom’s outside, and she’s pretty upset. She says you locked her out.”
“I did,” I said.
“Ethan, come on. It’s a kid’s party. Whatever happened, just let her back in and deal with it later.”
“She told Miles he wasn’t special, Garrett. He was standing right behind her when she said it. He heard everything.”
Garrett blinked.
He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again.
“Okay, that’s not great, but you know Mom. She says stuff without thinking. She didn’t mean it like that.”
“How else would she mean it? She said the party was a waste and he’s not even that special. How many ways can you interpret that?”
Garrett rubbed the back of his neck.
“Look, I’ll talk to her. Just let her back in so it doesn’t become a whole thing.”
“It already is a whole thing,” I said. “It’s been a whole thing for 34 years. I’m just the first one to say it out loud.”
Garrett didn’t know what to do with that.
He looked at Jenna, who was silently stacking plates with the intensity of someone defusing a bomb.
And then he walked away.
A few minutes later, I heard him go out the front door.
Through the window, I watched him talk to my mother in the driveway.
She was gesturing wildly.
At one point, she pressed her hand to her chest like she was the victim in all of this.
Classic Patricia.
Meredith, Garrett’s wife, came up to me quietly and said, “For what it’s worth, I think you’re right. She says stuff about Landon and Presley, too, when she thinks we’re not listening. It’s never good enough for her unless it was her idea.”
That surprised me.
I’d always assumed Garrett and his family were immune to my mother’s criticism, that they existed on some untouchable pedestal.
Turns out the pedestal had cracks, too.
She just hid them better.
The rest of the party went on.
Miles eventually started playing again.
His friend Cooper dragged him back into the bounce house.
And within 20 minutes, he was laughing and doing backflips off the sidewall, which nearly gave Jenna a heart attack, but at least he was smiling.
The bug cake was a hit.
His friends thought the praying mantis was cool.
Miles beamed when everyone sang happy birthday to him, and for a moment, everything felt okay.
My mother left the driveway about an hour into her exile.