“Jonah helped prepare this entire meal,” I said, looking directly at Bernadine. “He deserves a seat at this table just as much as everyone else.” She laughed nervously and told me I was being overly sensitive. Michael immediately asked me not to embarrass his mother. That was when I realized he had known about her behavior for years. Every holiday, she took the finest portions home while Jonah received whatever nobody wanted.
I looked at my son and noticed he was still holding that empty plate. I pulled out the chair beside mine and filled it with turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, and a generous slice of pie. “You sit here, sweetheart. You helped make this dinner.” Jonah smiled, but Bernadine slammed her container onto the counter. “You are making a terrible mistake,” she snapped.
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