“This is a family matter,” he said.
“Not a legal technicality.”
“It became a financial matter when Mom sent me an invoice.”
Brandon pushed his chair back an inch.
“You made my card decline at the marina.”
The café had grown quieter around us.
A server polishing glasses near the counter had stopped humming.
At the next table, a man lowered his newspaper without pretending he was not listening.
Brandon noticed them too.
His face reddened.
“The charter company tried to process the final balance,” he continued.
“I looked like an idiot.”
“You tried to pay for your yacht party with a card attached to my account.”
“It was the family card.”
“It was my card.”
Mom leaned between us.
“He was going to reimburse you.”
“When?”
“After the party.”
“With what?”
Brandon’s jaw tightened.
“That’s none of your business.”
“It becomes my business when the charge arrives in my name.”
Mom slapped her palm softly against the table, careful not to make enough noise to attract more attention.
“You are deliberately humiliating him.”
I turned the guest list toward her again.
“You billed me for a celebration where you planned to humiliate me privately.”
“That is not what happened.”
“My name is not on the list.”
“It was an oversight.”
“Twenty-three names made it onto that page.”
Mom looked at Chloe.
Chloe immediately dropped her gaze.
I had known she knew.
Her reaction when I first displayed the list had told me, but I wanted to hear her say it.
“Chloe?”
She rubbed her thumb along the rim of her cup.
“I saw the list two weeks ago.”
Mom’s head snapped toward her.
“That is not relevant.”
“It is to me,” I said.
Chloe swallowed.
“I noticed Catherine wasn’t on it.
I thought maybe you had talked to her.”
“You thought I had been told I wasn’t invited?” I asked.
She did not answer.
“Did you ask anyone?”
“No.”
Her cheeks turned red.
That answer hurt more than an elaborate excuse would have.
Chloe had seen my absence in black and white and accepted it because challenging Mom would have been uncomfortable.
Silence was easier when I was the person paying for it.
Brandon crossed his arms.
“I assumed you wouldn’t enjoy it.
You hate being on boats.”
“I spent three summers teaching you to sail.”
