“That’s wonderful.”
“There. You do that.”
“Do what?”
“You respond like everything is a competition.”
“You mentioned their gift.”
She had no answer.
Hugo finally said, “Carla, enough.”
But he looked down.
It wasn’t a defense.
Carla continued.
“I’m going to be completely honest.”
“I wish you would.”
“We’re trying to create a certain family environment.”
Something inside me went still.
“What environment?”
“More intentional. More polished. More selective.”
“I am your child’s grandmother.”
“Nobody denies that.”
“But I don’t fit.”
She sighed.
“Margarita, sometimes you serve yourself too much food.”
For a moment, I thought I had misheard.
“What?”
“My parents are extremely particular about manners. I don’t want an awkward moment.”
I looked at her.
Then Hugo.
He stared at the floor.
Suddenly, everything became simple.
Carla knew her comments hurt.
This wasn’t ignorance.
It was hierarchy.
