Chapter 1 - REAL FAMILY EATS FIRST
Diane snatched the paper plate from Ollie’s hands before Nancy understood what was happening.
The four-year-old had been waiting quietly beside the reunion buffet, staring at a spoonful of macaroni and soft potato salad.
He was hungry.
That was all.
Diane turned and hurled the soft food straight toward his face.
It splattered across his cheeks, nose, dinosaur shirt, and around his squeezed-shut eyes.
“Eat it!”
Ollie burst into tears.
Nancy charged forward.
She pulled him behind her, grabbed the empty plate, and slammed it onto the buffet table.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!”
The patio went silent.
Cousins froze beside folding chairs.
An uncle lowered his drink.
Diane pointed at Ollie.
Then at the other children already eating.
“Real family eats first. He can wait.”
Nancy felt something in her become very still.
Ollie was Diane’s grandson.
Biologically.
Legally.
Emotionally, apparently not enough.
Nancy took a cloth napkin and wiped her son’s face.
Then grabbed her purse.
“Come on.”
Travis moved instantly to her side.
Diane’s expression barely changed.
Until Nancy said:
“You’ll never get another dollar from me.”
Then Diane panicked.
She rushed after them and grabbed Nancy’s arm.
Nancy jerked free.
“Don’t touch me!”
Diane’s arrogance vanished.
“Who’s going to pay my bills?!”
The question silenced the patio more effectively than the shouting had.
Nancy looked over her shoulder.
Her aunt Susan stared at Diane.
Her cousin Mark looked confused.
Then Susan said:
“What bills?”
Diane froze.
Nancy turned fully.
Susan frowned.
“I thought your pension covered everything.”
Diane said nothing.
Mark added:
“You told us Nancy never helps you.”
Nancy stared at her mother.
Diane’s face went pale.
The reunion had just exposed two completely different financial stories.
In one, Diane was the self-sufficient widow carrying the family.
In the other, she had just admitted that Nancy paid her bills.
Then Travis asked quietly:
“How much have you been paying?”
Nancy did not answer immediately.
Because she realized she did not know the exact number anymore.
Six years earlier, after her father died, she had created a temporary bridge.
Six months.
May you like
That was the agreement.
It had somehow become six years.
