Katia
I took a very calm sip of wine.
Robert recovered admirably. He named a figure. It was decent. Not exceptional, but decent. He glanced at me when he said it, the way people did when they were hoping for approval, which told me everything I needed to know about why he was here and what he thought this lunch was.
"That's fine," Aiden said, with the measured generosity of someone trying to be encouraging. "Not as good as Mum's, but fine."
Mother laughed a bright, social laugh designed to move past the moment. Dad, who had been quiet at the end of the table, pressed his lips together in a way that might have been suppressing a smile.
Robert turned to me. He was good at pivoting. "Your son is extraordinary."
"I know."
"He clearly takes after you."
"Mm." I set my wine glass down. "R
