Inside, the atmosphere felt off from the beginning.
Everyone was too cheerful, too loud. My father settled on the couch beside my grandmother, taking her hand like he was auditioning for a role. He talked about strolling through Parisian streets, about tossing coins into the Trevi Fountain in Rome, about seeing Big Ben up close instead of in pictures.
“Mom, this is our chance to be together,” he said. “The whole family—all of us. You have to come.”
Aunt Paula chimed in, perched on the arm of the couch in a bright blouse and designer jeans.
“Mom, we just want you to be happy,” she said, her voice sugary sweet. “You’ve worked your whole life. It’s time you saw the world.”
Isabelle and James, both glued to their phones, sat at the dining table, earbuds dangling, texting their friends about shopping in London and taking selfies in Paris.
My grandmother sat in her favorite armchair, fingers twisting the hem of her sweater. She shook her head gently.
“I’m old,” she said, voice soft. “My health isn’t what it used to be. I don’t know if a trip that far is a good idea.”
My father didn’t back off.
“We’ll be with you,” he said quickly. “We’ll take care of everything. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Mom. You deserve it.”
Aunt Paula nodded, eyes locked on my grandmother’s face like she was trying to will her into agreement.
“Please, Mom,” she said. “Come with us.”
