Another neighbor added that when someone invites twenty people they should also be ready to pay for twenty meals. Dorothy sank into her chair while her confident smile faded for the first time since the morning began.
“I only wanted to do something nice for the family,” she murmured.
Nobody responded. Then an older man named Franklin stood up slowly. He picked up a tortilla and spooned some rice onto his plate.
“Sometimes a simple meal can say more than a fancy banquet,” he said before sitting down again.
A few others followed his example, and gradually people began eating quietly. It was not a feast, but the mood shifted from embarrassment to thoughtful silence.
Kevin stepped closer to me while the others ate.
“Angela,” he said quietly. “I am sorry.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because I should have come into the kitchen earlier,” he admitted.
I did not answer immediately, because I was still absorbing the strange calm filling the courtyard. He continued speaking with a more serious tone.
“Things will change after today.”