Chapter 12 - An Unlikely Supper
That evening, an unexpected assembly gathered around the pine table at the cottage.
Sarah had prepared a hearty stew with root vegetables from the garden and crusty homemade bread. Lily sat across from Mason, eyeing him with cautious curiosity. Mason, for his part, seemed fascinated by the roaring woodstove and the sprawling watercolor paintings Clara had left on the wooden walls.
Victoria sat awkwardly on a rough-hewn bench, holding a ceramic bowl of stew. For an hour, the conversation was hesitant, punctuated by the clinking of spoons and the crackle of burning birch.
"Lily," Mason broke the silence, pulling something from his pocket. "I brought this for you."
He set a small, wooden puzzle box on the table. "I built it in my school’s woodshop class. It's not very good, and the lid sticks a little... but you like secrets, right?"
Lily looked at the crude little box, then up at Mason. The memory of the elevator lobby—when she thought Mason was the chosen replacement who had stolen her father’s heart—flickered in her eyes. But looking at the boy now, with glue marks on his fingers and an earnest, apologetic gaze, the lingering bitterness dissolved.
She reached out, gently pulling the wooden box toward her. "How do you open it?"
Mason leaned across the table, his eyes brightening. "You have to slide the bottom peg first. See?"
Daniel watched the two children lean their heads together over the wooden trinket. Across the table, Victoria was staring down into her bowl, tears quietly pooling in her eyes. For all her social standing, she had never witnessed her son smile with such unburdened joy.
May you like
"Eat your stew, Victoria," Sarah said gently from the end of the table, refilling her water glass. "It gets cold fast up here."
Victoria nodded, wiping a tear from her cheek with the back of her sleeve, surrendering to the humble hospitality of the very people she had tried to discard.
