He didn’t describe every painful detail in front of the children, but he was clear enough.

“Mom deserved a welcome, and I shut the door,” he said.

“I was wrong.

I want our kids to know that people can admit when they’ve been wrong and try to do better.” Claire squeezed his hand.

Emma looked at me to see whether I was crying.

I was, a little.

I didn’t make a grand speech.

I thanked Daniel, told the children how much I loved them, and said I hoped the table would always be a place where nobody had to earn an invitation.