“Hello, Dad.”
I stared at her.
“You’re two hours late.”
“The traffic was terrible.”
June leaned against the doorway.
“For two hours?”
Lisa’s smile tightened.
“I didn’t realize I was being judged.”
“You’re not,” I said. “But dinner became cold while we waited.”
She stepped inside and looked around the kitchen.
“It’s charming that you kept everything so simple.”
She sat at the table like an important guest expecting better service. Rose poured water, May passed the bread, and June remained silent. Lisa spoke first.
“You girls are beautiful. Look at you. My daughters.”
Rose carefully lowered the pitcher.
“You can call us by our names.”
Lisa blinked.
“Of course. Rose, May, and June.”
I looked directly at her.
“Why are you here now?”
“I already explained. I want to rebuild our relationship.”
“After twenty years?”
“I was young.”
I leaned forward.
“You were old enough to carry your purse out of the hospital and say three daughters would prevent you from marrying well.”
