Chapter 12 - The Emergency Family Meeting
Two weeks before Christmas, Aunt Teddy called me on a secure landline. She sounded triumphant, like a general who had just successfully breached enemy lines.
"It’s happening, Emmy," Teddy announced without preamble.
"What’s happening?"
"Your father finally grew a spine. Or more accurately, Diane realized she was going to be uninvited from every single holiday party in the tri-county area if she didn't surrender. They are holding a family meeting at the Midlothian house this Saturday at noon. And they want you there."
I hesitated, gripping my phone tightly. "Did Mom agree to it?"
"Diane didn't agree to it; she was cornered by me, the rector of her church, and three furious bridge partners who threatened to boycott her Christmas brunch," Teddy cackled on the other end of the line. "She is currently weeping into a dish towel, but the meeting is happening. Be there. You don't have to forgive them yet, but you need to witness your father burn his own pride to the ground."
On Saturday morning, I strapped Matilda into her car seat, tossed her diaper bag into the trunk, and drove back across the James River bridge toward Midlothian. Zora had offered to come along for moral support, sitting in the passenger seat like a seasoned bodyguard.
When we pulled into my parents' driveway, the house looked the same—the manicured lawn, the brick exterior, the wreath hanging proudly on the front door. But the energy in the air was completely different.
As I unlocked the front door and stepped inside, I heard voices coming from the dining room.
Dad was standing at the head of the mahogany table. Mom was sitting in her usual chair, staring blankly at her hands, looking ten years older than she had six months ago. Raquel and Tobias sat across from her, looking thoroughly uncomfortable, while Vaughn leaned against the doorframe with a subtle, victorious smirk on his face. Aunt Teddy sat regally near the window like a supreme court justice.
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The moment I walked into the room holding Matilda, all conversation stopped dead.
Dad swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. He looked at me, then down at Matilda sleeping peacefully against my chest, and then looked around the room at his wife and children.
