The words sit heavy. I take another sip and the tea tastes bitter now.

“Pat, why did you do it?” she asks. Just like that.

I look down at my lap. “I was mad about something you said at the reception. It was stupid. I can’t even remember the exact words anymore.”

She sighs but not loud. “We said a lot of things back then.”

The box sits open. The rest of the tissue paper crinkles when she reaches in for another plate.

“I don’t know if I can forget it happened,” she says. “But maybe we can use these now. For the next family dinner.”

I help her unwrap the rest. The plates stack up neat between us. My shoulders feel lighter even if my chest still hurts some. She hasn’t asked me to leave yet. The note stays on the table where she left it. I guess we both need to look at it a little longer.

She closes the cabinet after the last one goes in.

“Come by tomorrow if you feel like it,” she says.

I tell her I will and head out to the car. The empty box rattles a little in the back seat when I pull away.