stern and stronger than ever, but I think . . . is he fighting off a smile? “I know it will. But we can do it. Poppy’s taught me that anything is possible.” His lips do tilt up slightly at that, and I can see how pleased and relieved he is at his parents’ reactions.
He looks at me with love in his eyes. I might’ve pushed him to talk to his parents, and he wasn’t sure it was such a good idea, but now, I can feel that he’s glad I made him. They have a chance at a relationship again. A happily ever after for their family.
Debra gets up and approaches Connor slowly. He stands too, and when Debra wraps her arms around his middle, hugging him like he’s the baby boy she’s known and loved all along, he relaxes into her. He’s a foot taller than Debra, but make no mistake, in this moment, he’s a boy getting hugged by his mom, something he needed more than he would’ve ever admitted to.
When they’re done, she turns to hug me. She whispers in my ear, “Thank you for bringing him back to us. I didn’t know how much we’d lost him and how much of it was our own doing.”
Robert, who needs a little more time to unleash the tears, it seems, still searches for a good step forward. Clearing his throat, he says, “How about we eat some dinner? Debra made a roast chicken and vegetables that have smelled good all day.”
The compliment from him is unexpected, and Debra smiles at her husband in appreciation. Caylee and Connor lock eyes, their brows raised as they silently question, ‘What just happened?’
“Sounds good . . . Dad.”
Robert clears his throat at the term of affection, and we make our way into the dining room. Debra brings in the serving platters from the kitchen, setting them on the table, as Evan opens the wine for us all.
We’re just about to raise a glass in toast when the phone rings. Debra pauses to look at it, a plate of dinner rolls in her hands. But instead of answering, she rolls her eyes and says, “It’s Audrey. I’m not letting her interrupt our family dinner with her narcissistic bullshit.”
As Debra rearranges a few plates to make room for the rolls, Robert, Caylee, and Connor all look at each other in shock.
“Uh, Mom?” Caylee asks as she sets down her wine glass, “Where did you learn about narcissism?”
Debra blushes slightly. “Well, things have been rough lately. Like you said, the wedding was a lot of stress, and there’s been . . ." She trails off, looking at Robert and Connor before the words rush out in one breath, “I started going to therapy. It’s only been a couple of sessions, but I’m learning a lot.”
“Welcome to the new generation, Mom. Everyone goes to therapy now,” Caylee says. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. I had a few sessions when I needed help in college, stressing out. And Evan and I did premarital therapy to help us define boundaries and learn to communicate better. Therapy is a good thing.”
Debra straightens as she sits down next to Robert. “Oh, well . . . yeah. I think it’s a good thing too.”
We eat, honestly complimenting Debra on the delicious meal, and somehow, conversation turns to Connor’s grandfather. Robert seems particularly interested to hear how his dad’s old magic tricks, which were apparently not that great to begin with, could’ve possibly helped Connor steal a well-protected piece of art.
“He taught me that sometimes, you have to roll with it. I can’t tell you how many quarters he dropped before he’d pull one from behind my ear. And he’d sell it as my ears being so full that he couldn’t even catch them all. But later, he could do it easily. I learned to practice from him too. The theories he taught me are sound, regardless of a few dropped quarters.”
The memory is a good one, bringing a smile to Connor’s face and even a small one to Robert’s.
“He used to do card tricks when I was a kid, basically play three-card monte with me,” Robert recalls a little wistfully. “This was when he was younger, and his skills . . . well, he could frustrate me all day if he wanted. But eventually, he’d let me win the pot.