I smiled because that was what I did.
Mark looked up, smiling a little. “Mom?”
She didn’t answer.
She set the knife down and reached into her purse. She pulled out a large golden egg, so large that she held it with both hands as she walked around the table, past Mark, past Dana, past two family friends, and stopped beside me.
Then she placed the egg directly on my plate.
“This one is just for you,” she said.
She pulled out a large golden egg.
I looked up at her, then across the table at Mark.
He had gone still.
“Mom,” he said. “What is this?”
She turned to look at him, and the color drained from his face.
Then she turned her attention back to me.
“Open it,” she said.
The room felt smaller suddenly, like the walls had inched inward. Twenty people were staring at me, waiting to see what was inside Beatrice’s gift.
“Open it.”
My hands were shaking as I picked up the egg. It was heavier than I expected, warm as though it had been sitting in the sun.
“Beatrice,” I said quietly. “What is this?”
“Just open it.”
I turned the egg in my hands and found the seam. It opened with a soft metallic click.
Inside were folded papers.
Several of them.
I unfolded the first one. When I saw it was, I gasped, “Oh my God.”
Inside were folded papers.
“What is it?” Dana leaned forward to look at me.
“Mom, what’s in there?” Mark asked, his voice tense.
I said nothing. I was paging through everything, my initial shock rapidly transforming into rage.
Then I reached the final page — a handwritten note from Beatrice.
I won’t protect him.
You deserved the truth, and now you should do with it as you see fit.
I looked up at her.
“Mom, what’s in there?”
Her face was stern, unmoving as always. She met my gaze and gave me a tiny nod.
Everyone was speaking at once, asking about the egg and the papers, but they fell silent when I stood.
I walked around the table and across the room. I could barely feel my legs; I was that shaken up, but my anger carried me forward.
I stopped in front of Mark.
And then I said the two words that ended everything.
She met my gaze and gave me a tiny nod.
“Get out.”
Mark rose halfway. “Listen—”
“No. There’s nothing you can say that will make this right.”
“Don’t do this here,” he said under his breath. “We can talk privately.”
I tilted my head. “Privately? I think you’ve been doing far too much ‘privately.’ Let’s fix that.”
“No!”
