“My dad owns twenty-seven grocery stores.”
She laughed.
Then stopped when she saw his face.
“What?”
I walked upstairs.
I heard them whispering below.
That evening, dinner was strange.
Vanessa was suddenly polite.
Very polite.
She served me extra vegetables.
Asked whether my room was comfortable.
Then said.
“You know, Walter, we hope you feel welcome here.”
I nearly choked on my water.
Noah looked at me.
He knew.
Children always know.
Emma asked.
“Mom, why are you talking weird?”
I looked down to hide my smile.
Vanessa ignored her.
Then she asked.
“How big is the grocery company?”
I ate a potato.
“Fairly.”
“What does fairly mean?”
“It means I’m hungry.”
She smiled tightly.
Ethan interrupted.
“Dad.”
“Yes?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“What?”
“Any of this.”
“You didn’t ask.”
“I knew you owned stores.”
“You knew I started one.”
“I didn’t know there were twenty-seven.”
