Gloria smiled and extended her hand.
“Gloria Reyes.”
“Amy Price. It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too. I’ve heard a lot.”
I turned to Dani.
“How much?”
“Mostly slander,” Dani said.
“Mostly spreadsheets,” Gloria corrected.
Lola was still holding my hand.
“You should come to dinner.”
Dani closed her eyes.
“We don’t have to decide now,” Gloria said.
“Sunday,” Lola added. “We’re having enchiladas.”
“I like enchiladas.”
“Then you have to come.”
“That is not how invitations work,” Dani said.
“It worked.”
Gloria rested a hand on Lola’s shoulder.
“No pressure. But you’re welcome.”
The invitation felt more dangerous than partner yoga. Family dinner belonged to real relationships. People asked questions. Children remembered answers. Dani waited without pushing.
“No pressure,” she repeated.
Her tone was careful. I could say no. The arrangement did not require family appearances. But Lola was looking at me as if my attendance had already become part of the week. And Dani looked nervous in the way she did when something mattered more than she wanted to admit.
“Sunday works,” I said.
Dani’s head turned.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Lola cheered. Gloria smiled. Dani stared at me with gratitude, alarm, and something warmer fighting for space. Lola released my hand and gave me the dinosaur sign.
“You can keep it.”
“I believe it is addressed to Dani.”
“She failed.”
