His mom, Diane, shook my hand like she was touching something fragile. « Jason mentioned you grew up… with just your father, right? » she asked, tilting her head.
« Yeah, » I said. « My mom passed when I was a kid. »
Diane smiled tightly. « Oh, an orphan. How… resilient of you, » she said. « Jason always did have a soft spot for charity cases. »
« We hope the poor little orphan girl can manage a casserole. »
Richard gave her a look. Jason cleared his throat. I laughed it off, because what else do you do when someone stabs you with a smile?
From then on, every family event came with some digs about my background.
« Did you learn to cook from a box? » she’d ask.
Or, « We hope the poor little orphan girl can manage a casserole. »
Always with that laugh like she was just joking. Always in front of people.
Jason would check on me later, but in the moment, he kept the peace. I told myself I could handle it. I’d survived worse than a stuck-up mother-in-law.
