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“Callie's former art teacher, Paislee, kindly suggested it. However I was the one who thought about it and made the decision to withdraw her.”
I know what my mother is trying to do, but I won't give her the chance to humiliate Paislee.
Paislee steals a glance at me, her eyes filled with gratitude. Mother doesn't look away from Paislee but continues to study her. When I can't take the tense silence any longer, I softly clear my throat and say, “I have a new project that is well underway.”
This gets my mother's attention, and she quickly turns her shiny eyes toward me.
“You do?”
“Yes,” I say as I stab the tangy, savory salad into my mouth. “The projections are good, and I am certain it'll break even.”
I continue to talk about my business with my mother, who gives some very serious strategies that I'll consider the moment I get back to the office on Monday.
“Just be careful with millennial women. They are out there with sharp claws, ready to grab and steal what you've worked so hard for all these years.”
I look up sharply.
“Mother!” I mutter.
I don't need to look in Paislee's direction to know she's offended. I can tell just by the little gasp she lets out.
“It's the truth. Take it.”
“Well,” I say as I get up. I am not interested in subjecting Paislee to this sort of torture. “It's a long drive, and we'd best be on our way. Dinner was great, mother.”
I round the expensive dinner table to drop a kiss on her cheek.
“But darling, dessert has yet to be served.”
“I'll have dessert when I get home,” I say, glancing in Paislee's direction. There's a light blush on her cheeks. She's looking down at her hands as if they're the most interesting thing she has seen in years.
My mother frowns at my response but says nothing. As I turn to grab Callie's hand, I wonder what sort of effect this conversation has had on her.
“Are you alright, Callie?” Paislee asks as we begin to make our way to the car, completely out of earshot.
“I didn't enjoy dinner with grandma.”
I turn to Callie, realizing that she looks a little upset. She had been awfully quiet during the meal. I should have paid closer attention to her.
“Why?” I ask, even though I half know the answer.
“She was mean to Paislee,” Callie tells me.
When I try to catch Paislee's eyes, I notice she's doing a very good job of ignoring me. My heart breaks a little. This is all my fault.
I turn to Callie when we reach the car.
“Honey, can you wait in the car while I talk to Paislee for a second?”
“Only if you promise to make her feel better,” she says with a determined face as she crosses her arms over her chest.
“I'll do everything I can, okay?” I assure her.
Callie nods and moves to the car. I open the door and assist her inside. As I turn back to Paislee, her eyes are wet with tears that she does not let fall.
“I'm sorry about my mother,” I say quietly, inching close to her but not quite touching her as I'd like to.
“She just outright hates me,” Paislee says in a low, pained voice. “I didn't even do anything to her.”
