By noon, all the aunts, uncles, cousins, and family friends had gathered at the house. The entire patio carried the scent of blooming flowers, freshly brewed coffee, and the warm breeze of spring.
Madeline eventually stepped outside wearing an elegant dark purple dress with her hair pulled back tightly and expensive gold earrings. She welcomed every guest with a graceful, regal smile, but the instant her eyes settled on Luke and me, her expression turned cold as ice.
Even though I felt the distance in her stare, I carefully placed the prettiest serving plate into my son’s little hands.
“Carry it to her carefully and tell her you brought her some fresh cobbler,” I whispered quietly.
Luke slowly walked through the crowd of chatting relatives.
Several family members smiled warmly when they noticed his formal clothes and determined expression.
He stopped directly before Madeline and lifted the heavy plate with both tiny hands.
“Grandma, I brought you a fresh cobbler that Mommy baked just for you,” Luke announced proudly.
For one brief moment, I honestly believed she would at least accept the plate out of simple public decency. She did not have to embrace him with affection, but she also did not have to wound a child before everyone watching.
Instead, Madeline lowered her eyes with a frightening coldness that sent a chill through my entire body. Then she suddenly raised her foot and forcefully kicked the plate straight from Luke’s hands.
