I booked the flight early. I called twice to confirm the date. I packed carefully. I bought gifts for the kids—a rabbit for Emma, puzzle books and toy cars for the boys. I even bought a new dress. Blue. Simple. Nice enough to show I had made an effort.
I wanted to look like I belonged in my son’s house.
The Uber driver asked, “Big family visit?”
I smiled. “I hope so.”
Nick had told me to come at four. I arrived at 3:45 because the Uber was fast. I stood on the porch, smoothing my dress and checking my lipstick in the phone screen.
He did not smile.
Then Nick opened the door.
He did not hug me.
He looked past me toward the street first.
“Mom,” he said, “we said four. It’s only 3:45.”
I laughed, thinking he must be kidding.
“I know, honey. The Uber was fast. I couldn’t wait to see everybody.”
I could hear music.
He did not smile.
“Linda’s still setting up,” he said. “The house isn’t ready. Can you wait outside? Just fifteen minutes.”
I blinked. “Outside?”
“It’s just 15 minutes.”
I could hear music, kids running, someone laughing.
I said, “Nick, I came from the airport.”
“I know. We just want it to be ready.”
