I pulled out my phone and made one brief call to the coat-check attendant.
Claire had left a box under my name before the party.
Ten minutes later, I returned carrying a large white box tied with a red ribbon.
I placed it in Greg’s hands.
“And this is my gift to you.”
The phones rose again.
Greg untied the ribbon with theatrical care.
Then he opened the box.
His face emptied.
Inside lay a folded red dress and an old photograph.
He picked up the dress.
“This old thing?” he asked.
Then he looked at me.
“Trying to remind us what you looked like before children?”
Claire stood from a table near the back.
“Actually, Greg, I altered it.”
Greg looked at her.
“The seams were fragile, and the waist needed work.”
He lifted the dress higher.
“You squeezed her into this?”
Claire shook her head.
“No.”
“I tailored it for Sophie.”
Greg slowly lowered the dress.
Sophie stood.
So did Daniel and Lucy.
I faced my husband.
“She found my first-date dress in storage months ago,” I said.
“She wanted to wear it to a scholarship dinner.”
I looked at Sophie.
“When I helped her try it on, she finally told me why she had stopped eating breakfast with us.”
Greg’s mouth tightened.
“What are you talking about?”
“She didn’t want you watching her plate,” I said.
“She didn’t want another joke about bread, thighs or her lack of discipline.”
“Harmless teasing,” Greg said.
He looked around the room.
“She misunderstood me.”
Sophie stepped forward.
“You said, ‘Do you really need breakfast when that skirt already looks tight?’”
Greg went still.
“You said it while driving me to school.”
Sophie continued.
“Two days later, you asked whether I wanted to end up like Mom. Then you laughed and told me not to be so sensitive.”
The room fell silent again.
Daniel stood next.
“He does it to me too.”
Greg looked at him.
Daniel’s voice was steady.
“He compares my body to my teammates’ bodies and asks whether a college coach would recruit someone built like me.”
Greg’s expression changed.
Then he looked at Lucy.
Our youngest didn’t stand.
Her voice shook.
“I hide snacks because dinner feels like a test.”
She swallowed.
“Dad watches everyone chew.”
