Before Mark could answer, Noah started crying.
Later that evening, Ava helped me decorate three dozen cupcakes for the party while Mark washed bottles.
“Grandma said her party is going to be fancy,” Ava announced.
Mark groaned.
“She mentioned pictures to me four times.”
Sharon’s house looked ready for a magazine shoot.
“Five,” I said. “She texted me another reminder.”
He checked his phone.
“Apparently we’re supposed to arrive early.”
“We are. I promised to help set up.”
The next morning, Sharon’s house looked ready for a magazine shoot. Plastic bats hung from the porch. Every pumpkin had a matching bow. Inside, the dining table was covered in orange plates nobody was allowed to touch yet.
She settled him in his stroller near the hall before turning to me.
Sharon opened the door wearing a black velvet cape.
“My babies!”
She hugged Ava and took Noah from Mark’s arms.
“There’s my handsome boy. Look at those cheeks.”
She settled him in his stroller near the hall before turning to me.
“You look exhausted.”
“I mean it kindly. You need more sleep.”
“Good morning to you too.”
“I mean it kindly. You need more sleep.”
“I’ll tell Noah.”
I carried the cupcakes into the kitchen, while Mark headed back outside to finish unloading the car.
Ever since Noah was born, Sharon had commented on my stomach, my appetite, and every woman she knew who’d lost her baby weight. Whenever I objected, she claimed I couldn’t take a joke.
That morning, I promised myself I wouldn’t let her ruin Halloween.
I had started planning my clothes around whether we would see her.
That morning, I promised myself I wouldn’t let her ruin Halloween.
Ava was placing little pumpkins along the mantel when I picked up the dress and makeup bag I’d brought for later.
Sharon noticed.
“You’re not wearing that again, are you?”
“I was going to try it upstairs.”
“Buy yourself a pumpkin costume to hide all those extra rolls.”
Mark’s aunt Denise was arranging napkins nearby. One of Sharon’s friends stood beside her.
Ava stopped beside the staircase, clutching her candy bucket.
“Oh, sweetheart. Don’t even try on last year’s dress. Buy yourself a pumpkin costume to hide all those extra rolls.”
Sharon’s friend looked away.
Denise put down the napkins.
“Sharon, that was uncalled for.”
“Good grief. I’m trying to help you avoid embarrassment.”
“Sharon,” I said, “that’s enough. I’ve asked you not to talk about my body.”
“Good grief. I’m trying to help you avoid embarrassment.”
“Mom looks pretty in her witch dress,” Ava said quietly.
Sharon smiled at her.
“Of course she does, darling. We just want her to be comfortable.”
I took Ava upstairs before I said something I couldn’t take back.
I tried again, then sat on the bed.
In the guest bedroom, I stepped into the dress and pulled the zipper.
It stopped.
I tried again, then sat on the bed.
Ava appeared in the doorway.
“Did Grandma make you sad?”
“A little,” I admitted.
“We promised to help.”
“Then why are we here?”
Because I had spent years convincing myself that keeping the peace was better than having an argument.
Instead, I said, “Because we promised to help.”
“Promises count even when people are mean?”
I looked at her.
“Not every promise, sweetheart.”
“But I wanted to see my cousins.”
“Then we can go home?”
“If you want to.”
She hesitated.
“But I wanted to see my cousins.”
“Then we’ll stay for a while. We can leave when you’re ready.”
She nodded and helped me find a safety pin in my bag.
For the first time all morning, I smiled.
Ten minutes later, the safety pin held the zipper as far as it would go. My cape covered the gap. I finished Ava’s makeup and settled my witch hat on my head.
Ava gasped.
“You’re back!”
For the first time all morning, I smiled.
Downstairs, guests were arriving. Mark was still outside, moving folding chairs from the garage to the backyard.
“I’m just impressed you squeezed into it.”
Sharon greeted me near the snack table.
“Well, look who decided to be brave!”
A few people turned.
I set down a tray.
“It’s a costume, Sharon.”
I’d spent years letting her make these comments.
“I’m just impressed you squeezed into it.”
Ava lowered her eyes.
Sharon smiled and walked across the room toward a group of guests, apparently satisfied she’d had the last word.
I watched her go.
I’d spent years letting her make these comments, then complaining to Mark afterward. But Ava had heard enough of them to know when to look away.
“I need you to stop commenting on my body.”
I crossed the room and stopped in front of Sharon.
“I need you to stop commenting on my body,” I said, loud enough for the people around her to hear. “And if you do it again in front of my children, we’re leaving.”
Sharon stared at me. Her smile disappeared.
“Please,” she said. “Not here.”
“You had no problem saying it here.”
For once, I didn’t wait for her to have the last word.
One of her guests shifted uncomfortably. Sharon glanced around, then lowered her voice.
“You’re overreacting.”
“I’m not, and it’s not a big ask for you to stop either way.”
For once, I didn’t wait for her to have the last word.
I felt Ava’s fingers slip into mine.
“Can we go see the spiders outside?” she whispered.
“Your mother hasn’t stopped.”
I wheeled Noah’s stroller into the backyard. We spent a few minutes hanging plastic spiders along the fence while he slept.
Mark joined us carrying a box of extension cords.
He glanced at my face.
“Everything okay?”
“Your mother hasn’t stopped.”
His expression tightened, but before he could answer, Sharon opened the back door.
“Dad always goes when Grandma calls.”
“Mark! I need you inside for a minute.”
He sighed.
“Coming.”
Ava watched him go.
“Dad always goes when Grandma calls.”
Ava and I went back inside when Mark’s cousin Julia arrived. Noah had just woken up.
She hugged me, then performed the trick for Noah.
Julia was a photographer who could make Noah laugh simply by raising one eyebrow.
She hugged me, then performed the trick for Noah. He rewarded her with a gummy grin.
Julia spotted Ava.
“There’s my favorite model. Remember our picnic pictures?”
Ava nodded.
“I had strawberry juice on my shirt.”
“Did you ever send everyone the pictures?”
“And you insisted we leave it in the photos.”
Julia laughed.
That picnic had been in August, one of the few days I’d felt good about myself since giving birth. Julia had taken pictures by the lake, and I’d liked several of them.
“Did you ever send everyone the pictures?” I asked.
“Right after the picnic. Actually, Sharon asked me for the full-size files again last week.”
“There’s a beautiful one of all five of you.”
“Again?”
“She said she needed one for a frame.”
Julia smiled.
“There’s a beautiful one of all five of you. You’re all laughing in it.”
I remembered. Noah had sneezed just as Julia raised her camera, and we’d all burst out laughing.
“That was my favorite,” I said.
“What’s in there?”
Before Julia could answer, Ava pulled her away to show off her costume.
As more guests arrived, I noticed Sharon had closed the living-room door. It had been open earlier while we were decorating.
“What’s in there?” one of the cousins asked.
Sharon smiled.
“A little surprise. You’ll see.”
Sharon disappeared into the living room.
By five, guests crowded the kitchen, dining room, and backyard. Children hurried between the rooms while the adults gathered around the food.
Then Sharon began calling the children over for photographs.
“Ava, honey, put your bucket down. You’ll need both hands.”
Sharon disappeared into the living room.
Ava followed, but returned almost immediately.
“She said only Dad and Noah can come in first.”
“Mom, Grandma says I have to wait.”
“Did she say why?”
“She said only Dad and Noah can come in first.”
“Probably setting up her camera.”
Ava frowned.
“Why can’t you come?”
“She said there’s a special family picture planned.”
Before I could answer, Mark returned from the backyard carrying Noah, who was dressed as a tiny dragon.
“Mom wants us by the fireplace.”
He looked toward the living room.
“She said there’s a special family picture planned.”
I set down my drink.
“Then let’s go.”
Sharon emerged holding a silver crown.
The living room had been transformed since morning. A black curtain covered the window, and orange lights framed the fireplace. A tripod stood beside an enormous display of family photographs.
Sharon had arranged the frames in neat rows. Birthdays, graduations, holidays. Every picture seemed selected with care.
Denise and a few other guests lingered near the doorway.
Sharon emerged holding a silver crown.
“I wanted something lovely for the children.”
“Mom can take the picture, sweetheart.”
She placed the crown on Ava’s head, then draped a matching black cape over Mark’s shoulders. She settled a smaller crown on Noah’s head and handed Ava a plastic sword.
Ava looked around.
“What does Mom get?”
Sharon adjusted Mark’s collar.
“Mom can take the picture, sweetheart.”
“Mom, Claire’s supposed to be in the picture.”
I thought I had misheard her.
“Mom, Claire’s supposed to be in the picture,” Mark said.
“Julia’s here,” I said. “She can photograph us.”
“Oh, Julia is busy enjoying herself.”
“I’m right here,” Julia said from the doorway.
Sharon’s smile tightened.
Ava wandered toward the photographs while Sharon fussed with Mark’s cape.
“Let’s not make this complicated.”
Ava wandered toward the photographs while Sharon fussed with Mark’s cape. Then she stopped.
“Mom, why aren’t you in that one?”
I followed her finger.
The center frame showed Mark standing at the lake with Noah in his arms and Ava slightly in front of him. Sharon stood to his right, smiling proudly.
I’d been standing to Mark’s left, my arm around his waist.
I knew the picture.
I’d been standing to Mark’s left, my arm around his waist.
Now only my hand was visible against his shirt. The rest of me was gone.
I stepped closer.
“Julia, did you crop this?”
“No,” she said.
“Where am I?”
Sharon moved toward us.
“It’s a lovely photograph.”
“Where am I?”
“Don’t start.”
I lifted the frame from the display.
For a second, nobody spoke.
“Claire, don’t turn this into another scene.”
Then Sharon looked straight at me.
“Claire, don’t turn this into another scene.”
“I want an answer.”
I turned the frame toward the room.
“Why did you remove me from our family photograph?”
Sharon folded her arms.
“You could have printed the original smaller.”
“The frame was too small.”
“You could have printed the original smaller,” Julia said. “I sent you the whole photograph.”
Sharon shot her a furious look.
“This is none of your business.”
Mark looked at his mother.
“Mom, tell me you didn’t do this on purpose.”
“You mean I looked fat?”
Sharon exhaled sharply.
“Honestly, you’re all acting ridiculous. Claire wasn’t looking her best that day. I wanted a nice family picture.”
I asked, “You mean I looked fat?”
Sharon looked toward the guests.
“You know you’ve put on weight. I thought you might appreciate not having an unflattering photograph on display.”
“You never asked me.”
“You cut my wife out because of her weight?”
Mark’s face went pale.
“You cut my wife out because of her weight?”
“I was protecting her dignity.”
“No,” I said. “You were protecting your display.”
I looked at Ava’s crown, Mark’s cape, and the tripod waiting beside the fireplace.
The photograph wasn’t the only thing Sharon had planned without me.
“Can’t this wait until the guests leave?”
“You were going to take another one tonight.”
Sharon said nothing.
I looked down at the frame, then placed it facedown on the mantel.
“I’m not taking your picture, Sharon. And I’m not letting you take a picture of my children that pretends I don’t exist.”
Sharon lowered her voice.
“Can’t this wait until the guests leave?”
Then he took off his cape and removed Noah’s little crown.
“No. We’re leaving. And until you can apologize for the way you’ve treated me, Ava and Noah won’t be coming back.”
Sharon turned to Mark.
“Are you going to let her speak to me like that?”
For a moment, he looked between us.
Then he took off his cape and removed Noah’s little crown.
“She’s right, Mom. We’re leaving together.”
“Sharon, I told you this morning that you were out of line.”
Ava pulled off her crown.
“I don’t want it.”
“Ava, sweetheart,” Sharon began.
“No. Mom’s in our family.”
Denise stepped forward.
“Sharon, I told you this morning that you were out of line. You owe Claire an apology.”
Julia caught up with us on the porch.
Sharon opened her mouth, but I was already taking Ava toward the front door. Mark followed with Noah.
Julia caught up with us on the porch, her camera hanging from her shoulder.
“Julia,” I said, “could you take one picture before we go?”
“Gladly.”
We stood together beneath the porch pumpkins. Mark held Noah, and Ava pressed against my side.
I slipped my arm around Mark’s waist, placing my hand where it had been in the picnic photograph.
On the drive home, Mark broke the silence.
Julia stepped back until all four of us fit in the frame.
“Everybody ready?”
“Wait,” Ava said.
She reached up and straightened my hat.
“Now.”
The camera clicked.
Three days later, Sharon called.
On the drive home, my husband broke the silence.
“I should have listened when you told me about Mom’s comments.”
“Yes,” I answered.
He nodded.
“I won’t dismiss them again.”
I thanked her for saying it, but I didn’t promise another visit.
Three days later, Sharon called.
“I shouldn’t have cropped you out,” she said. “I was cruel about your body, and I was wrong.”
I thanked her for saying it, but I didn’t promise another visit.
That night, Ava asked whether I would wear the witch dress next year.
“After all, witches belong in pictures too.”
“If I want to,” I said.
She smiled.
“After all, witches belong in pictures too.”
