“You knew I was working on something,” I said. “You decided what it was worth before you knew anything about it.”
He looked down.
“That’s fair.”
“And after that, you didn’t ask.”
He nodded.
Then he surprised me.
“Christmas was awful.”
I waited.
“Not because everything fell apart. It was fine. We ate. Sophie opened gifts. Lauren’s parents stayed until six.”
That sounded exactly right. Ordinary days can contain terrible choices without turning into disasters.
“But Sophie asked why you weren’t there,” he continued. “We told her we were keeping it small. She said, ‘Grandma is one person.’”
I pressed my lips together.
“That sounds like Sophie.”
“She was mad at me.”
“She had a reason.”
“I know.”
Scott leaned forward.
“Lauren thinks you correct her.”
I waited.
“She says when she tells a story, you add context. If she says something about school, you explain why the policy works that way. If she mentions something she read about nutrition, you start talking about the study design.”
I almost objected.
Then I remembered several dinners.
Scott saw my face.
“You remember.”
“I do.”
He gave a tired laugh.
“I should have told you it was getting under her skin.”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t want the fight.”
“So you avoided a small uncomfortable conversation until you could have a much larger cruel one.”
He winced.
“That sounds bad when you say it.”
“It was bad when you did it.”