“Stay until the end,” she whispered. “Grandma has something to say.”
Speeches started.
Belle grabbed the microphone like it belonged to her.
She delivered a polished tribute with trembling voice and perfect pauses, ending with:
“I’m proud to be the granddaughter who’s been by your side all these years.”
Applause rose.
My mother beamed.
Belle soaked it in.
Across the yard, Grandma met my eyes and gave the smallest shake of her head.
“Not yet.”
When the clapping faded, Grandma stood slowly, but the whole yard went quiet like it was trained to obey her.
She tapped her glass once.
“Everyone, please stay a moment,” she said. “It’s my birthday. I’ve earned the right to speak.”
Polite laughter.
My mother relaxed, expecting praise.
“I want to talk about family,” Grandma continued. “What it really means. Who shows up when nobody’s taking pictures.”
The air changed.
