The silence in the kitchen became almost physical. You could hear the wall clock ticking over the stove. Eleanor was a tough woman.
She could flatten a person over badly brewed tea or an insufficiently respectful tone. But she was also old-school. To arrive at her son’s home and learn that he had not only stiffed his wife on her birthday, but had expected her to feed his mother and sister out of her own modest income while he polished off the household meat supply by himself — that violated every rule of pride she believed in.
She slowly turned her full body toward Mike. — So… — her voice dropped to a dangerous whisper that made Mike visibly shrink. — You didn’t buy your wife a birthday gift, but you invited us over to celebrate.
And you expected her to feed us out of her paycheck while you sat around eating the good stuff late at night? — Mom, she’s twisting everything, she did this on purpose! — Mike whined, pressing himself into the wall. — Oh, stop talking, — snapped Vanessa.
She stepped closer to the table and looked at Paula in a completely different way. There was no warmth in that look, but there was something like female solidarity in the face of spectacular male cheapness. Vanessa unzipped her designer handbag and pulled out a thick white envelope.
— Happy birthday, Paula. Here. She slapped the envelope onto the table. — Buy yourself something decent, not that bargain-bin cheese you’re always eating.
Eleanor let out a heavy breath, took out her own envelope tied with a gold ribbon, and set it beside the first. — Happy birthday. You’re no saint, but putting up with this kind of nonsense on your birthday is too much.
Paula nodded and gently pulled both envelopes toward herself. — Thank you. I appreciate that. Would either of you like some tea?
I have tea bags. — Tea? At a time like this? — Eleanor growled. She turned toward Mike like a battleship changing course.
— Son, step out into the hallway with us for a minute. — Mom, come on, the neighbors will hear! — Mike squeaked, trying to back toward the bedroom. But Vanessa had already grabbed him by the collar with her long, perfectly manicured fingers.
— Oh, they can hear, — she said through clenched teeth. They hustled the protesting, muttering Mike out the door. The lock clicked shut…
