His 9-year-old daughter had without telling him, without asking, without any indication whatsoever, invited his whatever she was to the school science fair. Omra, he said. She looked at him with absolute innocence. What? We're going to talk what?
Still innocent. Gerald was not present, which meant this was fully intentional and premeditated. Gerald only stayed home when Amara had a plan. Victoria held up the sign. "Where do you want this?"
Amara took it immediately, propped it against the front of her display, stepped back, and assessed. "Perfect," she said. They stayed for 2 hours. Amara won second place which she accepted with the dignity of someone who knew she should have won first but was willing to be gracious about it. They the first place project was a volcano which Amara described to Gerald on the way home as basic.
A word she had clearly not learned from Daniel. He suspected she had learned it from the group text. Walking to the car afterward, Amara between them talking at top speed about the judging criteria and why they were wrong. Daniel looked over her head at Victoria. Victoria was watching Amara with an expression he had seen before.
Once very briefly at the dinner table two weeks ago when Amara had explained bioluminescence with her fork in the air and paint still on her shirt. The expression of someone encountering something that makes them understand for the first time what they've been missing. She caught him looking. He looked away but not before she saw him smiling. Amara announced from slightly ahead of them.
We should get ice cream. It's 40°. Daniel said. Ice cream is for all weather. That is not a real rule.
Victoria agrees with me. Amara said without turning around. I haven't said anything. Victoria said, "But you were going to." Victoria looked at Daniel.
He looked at Victoria. They got ice cream. The pivot happened on a Wednesday, 2 weeks after the science fair, and it came from a direction Daniel had not anticipated. He was in the middle of lunch service when Marcus came into the kitchen and said, "Daniel, phone call. My office now."
The tone made him set his spoon down. Marcus's office was a small room off the corridor behind the dining room, and it felt even smaller with the phone sitting on the desk already on speaker. Mr. Brooks. The voice was professional, measured, male.
This is Richard Cole. I'm the CFO of Hayes Hospitality Partners. Daniel looked at Marcus. Marcus looked at the middle distance, which told Daniel he already knew what this was. Okay, Daniel said carefully.