“The kids chose it because of the patio,” I said, keeping my eyes on the yoke of the shirt. “They wanted something nice for my fiftieth.”
“They wanted something expensive,” he said. He tapped the screen. “And their father is the one who has to pull out his wallet. Jake is twenty-four, he should understand how a budget works by now.”
“Jake is paying for his own share, Damon,” I said.
He did not look up from the screen. “He says he is. We will see who actually pays when the bill arrives.”
“He has a good job now,” I said.
“An entry-level marketing position in Columbus is not a career, Elena. It is a starter job.” Damon clicked the laptop shut with a sharp snap. “I just do not want him throwing his money away to impress people.”
I set the iron on its heel and smoothed the shirt sleeve one last time. “He is trying to impress me.”
Damon did not answer. He stood up, took the hanger from my hand, and carried the shirt toward the hallway without saying thank you.
By four o’clock, the iron was cold and back in the pantry. I stood in the dining room, looking at the dust motes floating in the pale October sun. My phone buzzed on the sideboard.
It was a text from Jake. “Just leaving Columbus now. We should be at the restaurant by six-forty-five. You guys on your way soon?”
My hand hovered over the keyboard. I knew how much work Jake had put into coordinating this dinner with Lily and Noah. Lily had spent three weeks trying to get a table near the fireplace, and Noah had saved his tips from the hardware store to buy a gift.
Damon walked into the room, his white shirt now on but unbuttoned at the top. He checked his watch. “What are you staring at?”
“Jake,” I said. “He wants to make sure we are on our way.”
“He is always checking up on us,” Damon said, walking toward the bathroom. “Tell him we will get there when we get there.”
