My stepdaughter invited me to dinnerI was speechless when the bill came.
It had been an eternity since Id last heard from Hyacinth, my stepdaughter. So when she asked me out for dinner, I thought maybe, just maybe, it was time to mend things between us. But nothing could have prepared me for what happened that night.
My name is Reginald, and at 50, Ive learned to live with a lot. Life is steadymaybe too steady. I work in a quiet office, live in a modest house in Norwich, and spend most evenings with a book or the telly. Nothing thrilling, but it suits me. The one thing Ive never quite managed is my relationship with Hyacinth.
A year or more had passed since wed last spoken. Wed never really gotten along, not since I married her mother, Beatrice, when Hyacinth was still a teenager. She always kept her distance, and eventually, so did I. So when she called out of the blue, her voice oddly cheerful, I was startled.
“Hello, Reginald,” she said, almost too brightly. “Fancy dinner? Theres a new place Ive been dying to try.”
At first, I didnt know what to say. Had she really called to make amends? To bridge the gap between us? If so, I was ready. Id hoped for this for years.
“Of course,” I replied. “Just tell me where and when.”
The restaurant was poshfar posher than my usual haunts. Dark wood tables, soft lighting, waiters in crisp white shirts. Hyacinth was already seated when I arrived, and she looked different. She smiled, but it didnt reach her eyes.
“Reginald! You came!” she said, her voice too eager, like she was forcing herself to appear relaxed. I sat across from her, trying to read the room.
“So, howve you been?” I asked, hoping for something real.
“Fine, fine,” she said, flipping through the menu. “You?” Her tone was polite but detached.
“Same old,” I said, but she wasnt really listening. Before I could say more, she flagged down the waiter.
“Well have the lobster,” she said, flashing me a quick smile, “and the ribeye. Sound good?”
I blinked. I hadnt even glanced at the menu, and she was already ordering the priciest dishes. I shrugged, trying not to overthink it. “Sure, if you like.”
But something was off. She fidgeted, checked her phone constantly, and barely answered my questions.
Over dinner, I tried to steer the conversation deeper. “Its been ages since we talked. Ive missed this.”
“Mm,” she murmured, not looking up. “Been busy.”
“Too busy to call in a year?” I chuckled, though there was a sting in it.
She glanced at me briefly, then went back to her plate. “You know how it is. Work, life”
Her eyes kept darting around the room, as if waiting for something. I asked about her job, her friendsanythingbut her replies were clipped, uninterested.
The longer we sat, the more I felt like an outsider in my own story.
Then the bill came. I reached for my wallet, fully expecting to pay. But just as I handed over my card, Hyacinth leaned toward the waiter and whispered something I couldnt hear.
Before I could ask, she flashed me a smile and stood. “Be right backjust popping to the loo.”
I watched her go, my stomach knotting. Something wasnt right. The waiter handed me the bill, and my heart lurched at the total. Far more than Id bargained for.
I stared at the restroom door. She didnt return.
Minutes ticked by. The waiter hovered. With a sigh, I handed over my card, bitterness rising in my throat. Had she really left me with the bill?
I paid, feeling hollow. As I walked toward the exit, frustration and sadness crashed over me. All Id wanted was a chance to reconnectto talk like we never had. Instead, Id been used for a free meal.
But just before I reached the door, I heard a noise behind me.
I turned slowly, unsure what to expect. My stomach clenchedbut then I saw Hyacinth standing there, and my breath caught.
In her arms was an enormous cake, and she was grinning like a child whod pulled off the perfect prank. In her other hand, she clutched a bouquet of balloons bobbing above her head. I blinked, trying to make sense of it.
Before I could speak, she stepped forward, beaming. “Youre going to be a grandad!”
For a moment, I froze. “Grandad?” I echoed, as if Id missed a step.
She laughed, her eyes bright with the same nervous energy shed had all night. Now it made sense. “Yes! I wanted to surprise you,” she said, holding out the cake. It was white, with blue and pink icing, and in bold letters: “Congratulations, Grandad!”
I blinked again. “You planned this?”
She nodded, the balloons swaying. “Down to the last detail. I even tipped the waiter extra. I wanted it to be special. Thats why I disappearedI wasnt ditching you, I swear. I just wanted to give you the surprise of your life.”
Something inside me loosened. Not disappointment, not anger. Something warmer.
I looked at the cake, then at Hyacinths face, and it all clicked. “You did all this for me?” I asked softly.
“Of course, Reginald,” she said gently. “I know weve had our ups and downs, but I wanted you to be part of this. Youre going to be a grandad.”
