“It really would be a lovely tribute.”
Another nodded.
“Benjamin was such a wonderful man.”
Suddenly, people who’d looked uncomfortable with Diane’s behavior were beginning to defend her.
The disagreement was no longer about a grandmother making decisions for someone else’s child.
Diane had turned it into a story about a grieving widow trying to honor her late husband.
Then she looked directly at me.
“Levi never would have treated me this way before he married you.”
I froze.
She continued in a quieter voice.
“Would your own mother approve of you treating your son’s only grandmother like this?”
That hurt.
More than I wanted to admit.
Diane knew how deeply I missed my mother.
She knew I’d tolerated almost everything that afternoon because I wanted my child to have a meaningful relationship with his grandmother.
And now she was using that grief against me.
