That night, I lay on the couch with my phone resting on my chest.
Across town, my mother was expecting to meet Clarissa.
What she did not know was that Clarissa had brought Beatrice and Evelyn with her.
My mother entered the restaurant expecting an intimate conversation between two women whose children were preparing to marry.
Instead, she found three women waiting at the table.
Clarissa greeted her as though nothing about the situation was unusual.
“You remember my sisters,” she said.
My mother knew their names, but she had never been told they were coming.
Before Helen had even settled into her chair, Clarissa raised her hand and called for the waiter.
She did not ask whether my mother wanted to look at the menu first.
She did not ask whether anyone had dietary restrictions.
She immediately began ordering.
They wanted lobster appetizers.
They wanted premium steaks.
They wanted side dishes, specialty sauces, expensive cocktails, and extra bread.
Beatrice added another seafood plate.
Evelyn asked about the restaurant’s most expensive wine.
My mother stared at the prices printed beside each item.
Her stomach tightened.
