The crust gave a faint crackle.
Such an irresistible aroma spread through the room that Patricia swallowed involuntarily and reached almost at once for her fork.
Robert straightened and looked at the roasting pan with genuine interest.
Patricia’s mood changed in a heartbeat.
“Well, I had begun to think your menu consisted entirely of fish,” she said, suddenly much gentler as she selected the most golden piece with her eyes. “You can cook when you make the effort. Come on, carve it before it gets cold. And give me some of the potatoes from the edge.”
Margaret did not pick up the knife.
For several seconds she watched the guests preparing themselves for the main course.
Then, with the same calm movements, she took hold of the hot iron handles, lifted the roasting pan from the table, and carried it back to the kitchen.
Daniel shot upright on the sofa.
“Mom, where are you taking the meat? Put it back! It smells incredible!”
Margaret did not answer.
In the kitchen, she placed the pan on a thick wooden board and covered it with its heavy lid so the roast would stay warm. Then she returned to the living room at an unhurried pace.
Nothing in her face suggested that anything unusual had happened. She looked exactly as she might have looked while dusting a shelf or putting away clean dishes.
When she reached the table, Margaret picked up the large platter of savory pies.
She carried it into the kitchen.
Next came the eggplant rolls.
Then the plate of homemade roast pork.
After that, she removed the very crystal fish platter her guests had criticized only minutes earlier.
One dish after another disappeared from the celebration table and reappeared on the kitchen counter.
In the silence, even the refrigerator’s steady hum became audible.
Patricia was the first to understand.
“Margaret, have you completely lost your mind in your old age?” she shrieked, instantly abandoning her former condescending tone. “What kind of performance are you putting on? We are sitting at a holiday table!”
Margaret looked at her calmly.
“A few minutes ago, you said the table was pathetic. Why would I feed respected guests garbage and poison them with cholesterol? The pollock is cat food, the potato salad is drowning in mayonnaise, and the napkins are cheap. So don’t suffer. Nobody is forcing you to eat here.”
Her quiet voice had more force than shouting ever could.
For several seconds Patricia could not find a reply.
Daniel, however, leaped to his feet.
Red patches spread across his face.
“Mom, stop this ridiculous act! I’m ashamed of you in front of my father-in-law and mother-in-law! Put the food back. Everyone is hungry! You’re behaving like a hysterical woman!”
Margaret studied her son as if she were seeing him clearly for the first time.
In front of her stood a grown, broad-shouldered man in a carefully pressed shirt—a shirt she had once bought for him herself. He was well-fed, well-groomed, and confident. Yet he could not summon even the smallest measure of respect for the woman who had spent decades ready to give him everything she had left.
“You should have been ashamed of something else, son,” Margaret said with the same steady calm. “You should have been ashamed to sit in my home while your mother was humiliated over food she spent two days preparing and paid for herself. But if my table embarrasses you in front of your family, take your wife, your in-laws, and go to the good restaurant Patricia was talking about. They’ll serve you arugula, king prawns, and cloth napkins—pressed and starched.”
Emily clenched her hands.
“Are you throwing us out? On our anniversary? We came here with open hearts! We wanted to spend a proper family evening together!”
Margaret walked to the front door and opened it wide.
“You came here for a free meal and another chance to tell me what a terrible housekeeper I am. For five years, every visit has followed the same script. But it ends tonight. There will be no celebration. Put your shoes on.”
Patricia rose abruptly.
She was breathing heavily with outrage, and her colorful silk scarf had slipped crookedly over one shoulder.
In the hallway, she angrily pulled on her suede shoes.
“I swear I will never set foot in this apartment again!” she spat. “You shameless woman! We came here in good faith, and now you’re throwing meat in our faces! No manners, no decency. You were a nobody before, and you’re still a nobody now! Come on, Robert. There’s clearly nothing for us here.”
Robert gave Margaret an apologetic look and sighed under his breath. He did not dare argue with his wife and quietly followed her out.
With an exaggerated snap, Emily closed her handbag and stepped onto the landing without looking back at her mother-in-law.
Daniel was the last one by the door.
He stared at his mother with open anger.
“Fine. Stay here alone with your pots and pans,” he said through clenched teeth. “You’ll be the one calling to apologize later. Don’t expect me to answer. You ruined my entire celebration in front of everyone. I’ll never forget this.”