Margaret slowly lowered her fork.
“Guests eat first. You know how we do things.”
I looked at Daniel.
Surely he’d say something.
He buttered his bread.
Sophie lowered her eyes, collected several serving dishes, and disappeared into the kitchen.
“Does she always eat separately?”
Daniel laughed.
“Mom’s traditional. Sophie understands.”
“Understands what?”
His father cleared his throat.
Margaret smiled.
“That when we have guests, the younger women make sure everyone is looked after.”
“There are three younger women at this table.”
Daniel’s sister suddenly became fascinated by her potatoes.
Margaret’s smile tightened.
“Sophie doesn’t mind.”
I looked toward the kitchen.
“She seemed to mind.”
Daniel put down his knife.
“Corinne, it’s just how Mom runs her house.”
Ten minutes passed.
Then 20.
Margaret excused herself and headed toward the kitchen.
A minute later, I followed.
Before I reached it, I heard her whispering.
“You weren’t supposed to invite her.”
“I didn’t,” Sophie answered. “Daniel did.”
“Then make sure she doesn’t see the basement door.”
I stopped.
I’d visited that house many times.
I’d never even known it had a basement.
Margaret stepped into the hallway.
She was startled when she saw me.
“Bathroom?” I asked.
“Other direction.”
She watched until I turned around.
