“Thank you for being here, Mom. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“You’re stronger than you know, Cindy. I’m just glad I got to witness it.”
My mom smiled. “That’s what family does. We show up when it matters most.”
The next day, Regina came back, but not in the way I expected. She wasn’t demanding anything. She wasn’t playing the victim. She wasn’t even wearing her usual perfect makeup.
Instead, she was… quiet. And in her hands was a small basket.
Robert ushered her in, his hand firmly on her shoulder like he was afraid she might bolt. Ethan tensed beside me, and I could feel my mom shift uncomfortably in her chair.
“Regina has something she’d like to say,” Robert announced, giving her a gentle push forward.
Inside the basket were two things:
Handmade gifts for the baby — a tiny hand-sewn onesie, a delicate crocheted blanket, and a small, embroidered pillow. None of them perfect, and all of them clearly made by inexperienced hands.
And a slightly lopsided apple pie.
“It’s an apology pie,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible. “For… being a terrible person yesterday.”
We all stared in shock.
“I was wrong,” Regina admitted, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. “I thought money was what mattered. But Ethan and my husband made it very clear that I was wrong.”
Then she sighed, finally looking up. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her usual confidence nowhere to be seen.
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