I told them at the start, before the food was fully on the table, because I didn’t want it to be news I was sitting on through an entire meal.
“I’ve accepted a position at Pinnacle Logistics,” I said. “I start in December.”
Victor looked up from the bread he was cutting.
“They’re based locally,” I added, “so I’m not going anywhere.”
My mother said, “That’s wonderful, Grace. That’s really good news.”
She meant it. I could hear her meaning it and also feeling a thing underneath it that she wasn’t going to name at the table.
Victor said, “Pinnacle. Tom Garrett’s old shop.”
“Owen Reed now,” I said.
He said, “He’s done good work there.” A pause. “It’s a good position.”
I said I thought so.
He said, “We’ll miss you. We already miss you.”
Which was, I thought, both true and insufficient, and was as close as Victor was going to get to the larger thing, here at this table, in front of the bread he was cutting.
“I know,” I said.
We ate the roast. Elaine had made potatoes two ways, which she does when she wants the meal to feel generous. Victor asked about the Pinnacle team. I described what I knew. Luke, who had come with his girlfriend Mara, was quieter than usual.
After dinner, when Luke and Mara were saying goodbye in the front hallway, Elaine found me in the kitchen, the two of us alone for the first time.
She said, “I want to say something.”