Dad clears his throat. "Lucy knows family comes first."
I look down at my plate. Family.
Everyone keeps saying that word. They just don't seem to mean the same thing I do.
The conversation shifts back to business almost like nothing happened. I push my food around my plate and take small bites whenever somebody looks my way.
It's strange.
A few minutes ago, I actually wanted to talk about nursing. Now I wish I'd never brought it up.
Every answer somehow found its way back to being somebody's wife.
I don't think anybody notices how quiet I've gotten.
Or maybe they do.
Maybe they just don't think it matters.
When dinner finally ends, I stand before Mom can even ask.
"I'll help clean up."
She gives me a grateful smile.
"Thank you, sweetheart."
Dad waves a hand toward the living room.
"You men go relax. We'll be in shortly."
Of course.
The men disappear with coffee while the women carry dishes into the kitchen.
Nobody suggests Daniel help.
Nobody even looks surprised when he follows Dad instead.
The sink fills with warm water while Mom rinses dishes and I dry them. Mrs. Harris stands beside us drying silverware with a towel, talking about church, weddings, and somebody's new baby.
I nod when I'm supposed to.
Smile when I'm supposed to.
The whole thing feels practiced.
After a few minutes, Mrs. Harris glances toward the doorway.
"I'll go check on the coffee."
The second she disappears, Mom lets out a quiet breath.
"I'm sorry."
I look over at her.
She rinses another plate before speaking again.
