Chapter 8 - THE LETTER ON SOPHIE'S DESK
Vanessa's letter arrived the following week.
It was handwritten.
Three pages.
I read it alone.
She apologized for judging me by my clothing and for making Sophie feel unwelcome.
She admitted she'd become obsessed with maintaining the restaurant's image.
She described years of trying to prove herself in an industry where managers were judged by revenue, reviews, and appearances.
None of that excused her behavior.
To her credit, she said so.
The final paragraph stayed with me.
I didn't know you were the owner, Mr. Mercer. But that should never have mattered. I should have treated you with respect because you were a guest, and your daughter with kindness because she was a child. I failed at both.
I folded the letter.
Then waited until Sophie came home from school.
She dropped her backpack beside the kitchen table.
“Daddy, guess what?”
“What?”
“I got picked for the science fair.”
I smiled.
“That's wonderful.”
She grinned.
“I'm making a volcano.”
“Of course you are.”
She climbed onto a chair.
Then noticed the envelope.
“What's that?”
“A letter.”
“From who?”
“The woman at Bellmont House.”
Sophie's smile faded.
“Oh.”
I sat beside her.
“She wanted to apologize.”
Sophie looked at the envelope.
“Do I have to read it?”
“No.”
“Do I have to forgive her?”
“No.”
She thought for a moment.
“Is she sorry?”
“I believe she is.”
Sophie looked down.
“Then I hope she's nicer to people now.”
I smiled sadly.
“Me too.”
She reached for her crayons.
Then asked:
“Daddy, can we go back there someday?”
I stared.
“Do you want to?”
She nodded.
“I liked the chocolate cake.”
I laughed.
“That's a good reason.”
She looked at me seriously.
“And I don't want that lady to make me afraid of restaurants.”
I swallowed.
May you like
Then pulled her into my arms.
Neither did I.
