“Whatever happened, happened.
We’re here now.
Your sister is getting married.
This is a chance for everyone to move forward.”
I glanced at my sister.
“Did you ask me to cater your wedding?”
She looked startled.
“I… Mom and Dad said they were going to talk to you.”
“Did you ask them to?”
She hesitated.
“They said it would be meaningful.”
My father leaned forward.
“It would.
And it would be good for the restaurant.
There will be important people there.”
I looked around my fully booked dining room.
Then back at him.
“You think my restaurant needs exposure from your wedding?”
His face hardened.
My mother jumped in.
“Don’t twist everything.
We were trying to include you.”
“By assigning me a job?”
“By making you part of the family again.”
That sentence landed harder than I expected.
Part of the family again.
Not because they missed me.
Not because ten years of silence had finally become unbearable.
Not because someone had woken up one morning and wondered whether I was safe.
They had a wedding approaching.
I had a restaurant.
Suddenly, there was a role for me.
I looked at my sister.
“How many guests?”
She blinked.
“About one hundred and forty.”
My father’s expression relaxed slightly, mistaking the question for negotiation.
“Closer to one hundred and sixty now,” he said.
“But you have staff.
We figured you could make it work.”
“And the budget?”
His smile returned.
“We’re family.”
There it was again.
The phrase they had apparently decided worked like a credit card.
My sister’s fiancé leaned back in his chair.
“Were you expecting the wedding food to be free too?”
My mother looked offended.
“That’s not what anyone said.”
He turned to my father.
“Is it?”
My father ignored him and looked at me.
“We expected you to contribute.
Families help each other.”
I nodded slowly.
“Families help each other.”
