Benjamin and my mom got along surprisingly well. My mom made a huge spread, and Benjamin raved about the food from start to finish, leaving her overjoyed. She practically wanted to make him her godson on the spot.
My dad sat at the head of the table, holding his wine glass, sizing up Benjamin at a leisurely pace. He asked some questions about work, and Benjamin answered fluently, respectfully without being subservient. Everyone had a wonderful time.
After dinner, Benjamin volunteered to wash the dishes. My mom couldn't stop him no matter how she tried, and finally just stood in the kitchen doorway watching us with a tender smile.
"Your mom is really warm toward me," Benjamin whispered as he scrubbed the dishes.
"She's warm toward everyone."
"No," he turned to look at me, droplets of w
