I could feel every one of them waiting to see what kind of person I was going to be.
Up at the head table, Daddy had started to get up. I caught his eye and shook my head. Just barely. He stopped where he was.
I picked a clean plate up off the stack.
“You’ll have it tonight,” I said. “In its box. Wiped clean. The way your mother would have kept it. I’m not going to pull it off my finger over a steam pan and hand it to you greasy.”
Her mouth went tight. “I don’t think that’s for you to—”
“I’m serving supper right now, Lorna. There’s sixty people behind you.”
I laid a slice of beef on the plate. Then a second one, because she never takes enough.
“There’s a place for you at the head table,” I said. “It’s the same one that was always going to be yours. And there’s cake after. I’d like you to stay for it.”
She looked at that plate like I’d held out a snake.
“I am not going to sit up there and—”
“Lorna.”
That wasn’t me.
It was her sister Judy, three places back in line. She didn’t say it loud.
“Your whole family is in this room,” Judy said. “Every one of us. We’re going to sit down and eat this girl’s supper, because she asked us to, and because it’s the least we can do. You can sit with us. Or you can go sit out in that car by yourself.”
She paused.
“But I’ll tell you which one people are going to remember.”
Lorna stood there.
I think she’d figured on a half-empty hall. A crying girl. A quick errand. Instead there was her own sister in the buffet line. Her own daughter Tammy at a table with the bridesmaids. And her son Jeff over by the wall, still in his best man’s suit, looking at his mother like he was asking her for something.
If she left now, she’d be leaving alone. In front of all of them.
She put her keys in her purse.
She took the plate.
“Potatoes are next,” I said. “Tell Connie’s girl to give you the corner. That’s the crispy part.”
I served until the very last person had come through. Then Connie took the spoon right out of my hand, put a plate in its place, and told me she’d come after me with a dish towel if I didn’t go sit down.
So I went up and sat at the head table after all.
Somebody had quietly taken away the other chair with the bow. I never found out who. Grandma June was on my left. Daddy was on my right.
And on the other side of Daddy, because it was the place that had always been hers, sat Lorna. Back as straight as a yardstick. Her beef cut into little pieces she wasn’t eating.
Nobody at that table said one cross word to her.
I’ve heard this story told back to me around town with things added to it, and that’s one of them. People say somebody gave her a piece of their mind. Nobody did. Daddy passed her the rolls. Grandma June asked after her tomatoes. Beth refilled her iced tea.
Sophia Rivers is an experienced News Content Editor with a sharp eye for detail and a passion for delivering accurate and engaging news stories. At TheArchivists, she specializes in curating, editing, and presenting news content that informs and resonates with a global audience.
Sophia holds a degree in Journalism from the University of Toronto, where she developed her skills in news reporting, media ethics, and digital journalism. Her expertise lies in identifying key stories, crafting compelling narratives, and ensuring journalistic integrity in every piece she edits.
Known for her precision and dedication to the truth, Sophia thrives in the fast-paced world of news editing. At TheArchivists, she focuses on producing high-quality news content that keeps readers informed while maintaining a balanced and insightful perspective.
With a commitment to delivering impactful journalism, Sophia is passionate about bringing clarity to complex issues and amplifying voices that matter. Her work reflects her belief in the power of news to shape conversations and inspire change.