Mom had not yet explained that part to anyone.
She intended to give Dad an opportunity to tell the truth before the evening was over. But she also wanted to make it clear that she would not allow him to control the story simply by offering an explanation after being confronted.
She would no longer be the person who knew only what he chose to tell her.
For the first time in thirty-two years, she was preparing to face a serious problem in their marriage without following the familiar pattern of avoiding conflict until everything returned to normal.
She did not know exactly how the evening would end.
But she knew it would not be an ordinary dinner.
7. Preparing for Saturday
Saturday arrived with clear skies and mild weather.
Mom spent most of the morning cleaning the house. She changed the tablecloth, polished the glasses, and arranged fresh flowers in a vase at the center of the dining table.
To anyone watching, she appeared to be preparing for a pleasant evening with a neighbor.
She even prepared some of Dad's favorite dishes.
There would be roasted vegetables, a large salad, warm bread, and the chicken recipe he always praised. She made a dessert in the afternoon and placed it in the refrigerator to cool.
Yet the preparations had a different meaning for her.
Each familiar task reminded her of the life she had built with Dad. She had cooked countless meals in that kitchen, often preparing his favorite dishes because she knew they made him happy.
She had done these things because she loved him and believed they were building a shared future.
Now she wondered whether he had appreciated the life they had created or simply become accustomed to it.
She did not know whether the affair had begun because he was unhappy, because he wanted excitement, or because he believed he could avoid the consequences of his choices.
She also understood that no explanation would automatically make the betrayal acceptable.
Even if Dad had been lonely, dissatisfied, or confused about the future, he had still made decisions that affected both of them. He had chosen what to conceal and what to reveal.
Mom could not determine the meaning of those choices until she heard him speak honestly.
At approximately four o'clock, Dad came into the kitchen.
“Everything smells good,” he said.
“Thank you.”
He looked at the counter, where Mom had arranged several ingredients for the evening meal.
“You've gone all out for Jade.”
“I thought she deserved a nice dinner.”
Dad laughed.
“She's only our neighbor, Helen. You don't have to prepare a feast.”
Mom continued arranging the plates.
“It's no trouble.”
He studied her briefly.
“Are you all right? You've been quiet today.”
“I'm fine.”
Dad accepted the answer without asking further questions.
He went outside to prepare the grill.
Mom watched him through the kitchen window as he moved around the backyard. He checked the fuel, wiped down the metal surface, and arranged the tools beside it.
It was a scene she had witnessed hundreds of times.
The familiarity made her feel both comforted and deeply unsettled.
How could the same person who had shared so much of her life be involved in something that threatened the trust between them?
She knew that people were complicated. A person could be caring in some situations and selfish in others. Someone could fulfill family responsibilities while concealing choices that caused profound pain.
But understanding that complexity did not make betrayal easier to accept.
Mom returned to the kitchen and checked the time.
Jade would arrive at seven.
The other guest had been given the same time.
Everything was ready.
8. Jade Arrives for Dinner
At exactly seven o'clock, the doorbell rang.
Mom dried her hands and went to answer it.
Jade stood outside holding a small box of chocolates. She wore a dark blue dress and looked more nervous than she had at the café.
“Hi,” she said. “I hope I'm not too early.”
“Not at all. Come in.”
Jade stepped inside and handed Mom the chocolates.
“These are for you.”
“You didn't need to bring anything, but thank you.”
Mom led her into the dining room.
The table looked beautiful. The plates were arranged neatly, the glasses reflected the warm light, and the flowers in the center gave the room a welcoming atmosphere.
Jade looked around.
“You've made everything lovely.”
“Thank you. Please sit down.”
From the backyard came the sound of Dad moving the grill tools.
“He's outside finishing the food,” Mom explained.
Jade nodded, then lowered her voice.
“Helen, are you sure about this?”
Mom looked at her.
“About dinner?”
“About having me here, knowing what I showed you.”
Mom pulled out a chair.
“Yes, I'm sure.”
Jade sat down slowly.
“I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since we met.”
“Neither have I.”
Mom took the seat opposite her.
“It's difficult to discover something like this. But avoiding it won't make it disappear.”
Jade looked down at her hands.
“I keep wondering whether I should have done something sooner.”
“You told me when you believed I needed to know. You cannot change what happened before that.”
“But I knew something was wrong.”
“You weren't responsible for my husband's choices,” Mom replied. “He was.”
Jade looked up.
There was something reassuring about hearing Mom say it so plainly.
For days, Jade had imagined herself as the person who had delivered terrible news. She had worried that she might be blamed for exposing the affair or accused of trying to interfere in a marriage.