Chapter 137: A New Year's Gift

Denise Carver's peripheral vision caught the cherries Daniel Whitmore had brought. Her lips curled slightly.

"Helen dear, you bought cherries too? They look a size smaller than Diane's."

Helen's smile froze. Her voice remained gentle.

"You're teasing me, Denise. How could we compare with Diane?"

Denise covered her mouth with a titter.

"Naturally. Raymond and Diane always get the best."

Clara Whitmore idly rearranged the fruit platter.

"What did you bring, Aunt Denise?"

Denise's expression stiffened.

Clara had already bent to inspect the shopping bag at her feet.

"Let's see... Apples, pears, oranges..."

All budget fruits.

"How practical. Exactly what everyone enjoys daily."

The barb stung, but Denise couldn't object.

"I thought to bring something economical..."

Born to affluent parents who were power bureau officials, Denise had never known want. Yet she pinched pennies relentlessly, especially with family.

Clara smiled.

"You're so thrifty, Aunt Denise."

Denise's mouth tightened.

Diane Harrow intervened smoothly.

"Enough chatter. Try the fruit."

"Thank you, Aunt Diane." Clara selected a cherry. "Delicious."

Denise chewed mechanically. The fruit might as well have been sawdust.

She sought comfort from her husband.

Howard Carver didn't even glance her way.

"Mom, eat!" Tessa Carver urged. "They'll be gone soon."

Denise scowled.

"Eat, eat! You two are nothing but leeches!"

Tessa blinked. What's her problem?

Howard frowned. Needs her meds.

The clock struck noon. The housekeeper asked about serving lunch for the third time. Diane looked upstairs.

"Let's wait. Raymond's still working."

Grandmother Ruth Caldwell agreed.

"We eat together for New Year's."

An hour later, Diane grew restless.

"Shall we start? It is the holiday..."

"I'm not hungry," Ruth said, glancing at Grandfather Walter Caldwell.

"Nor I."

Ruth surveyed the room.

"Anyone hungry?"

Silence.

"Then we wait," Ruth decreed.

"Waiting for me?"

A crisp female voice carried from the foyer. The newcomer shed her down coat, revealing a tailored suit and impeccable chignon.

"Claire?!" Ruth rose in delight. "You said you were working!"

Claire Porter, a bank branch manager, had claimed she'd be on duty.

"My assistant's covering." She greeted everyone while changing shoes, pausing at Clara.

"Clara's back?"

"Aunt Claire." Clara smiled.

"You've grown." Claire's gaze lingered on Clara's face, then dropped to her handbag. Her brow furrowed.

"Come have fruit," Diane offered warmly.

Claire presented a gift box with a smile.

"Happy New Year, Diane. For all your hard work."

Diane looked startled.

"For me?"