They used to do this all the time when they were younger. Back then, when their marriage was still strong, sharing meals late at night felt tender and intimate. Now, even if things between them weren't quite as warm, Octavia could still make Latham feel cared for.
"With both you and our son out working so late, how could I possibly eat dinner alone?” Octavia said gently, picking up the bowl of soup she'd made for Lance. “Let me bring this up to him."
Latham's face clouded over. "Bring it to him? Just call him down. If he doesn't want to eat, then let him go hungry."
Fine, then.
Latham was in no mood for a fight, so Octavia didn't argue. "I'll just give him a call."
Upstairs, Lance had just stepped out of the shower. He was toweling off his hair when he heard his phone ring, and answered, half-expecting it to be a work call. "Mom?" He frowned when he saw Octavia's name pop up. He could already guess —she was probably going to try and talk him into dating Mabel again.
Sometimes he wondered if his mother was completely out of touch with reality. A girl from a family as privileged as Mabel's hardly lacked for options. She had her pick of suitors—why on earth would she tie herself to a family like the Jameses for no reason? No one does favors like that for nothing in return.
"Your dad told me neither of you had a chance to eat today. I made some chicken soup. Come down and have some," Octavia said.
It was only when she mentioned it that Lance realized how hungry he actually was. "Okay." Even though his last run-in with his father had ended in an argument, he still headed downstairs.
A few moments later, Cindy came down as well. She paused at the bottom of the stairs, catching sight of her parents and brother quietly eating a late-night meal together. Suddenly, she felt like a complete outsider in her own home.
The three of them were sharing a late-night meal, so why was she the only one left out? Did any of them even realize she hadn't eaten all night?
She'd spent most of the evening hiding in her room, feeling miserable. Octavia, frazzled and
preoccupied with the company'snet
troubles, had completely overlooked her daughter. When the kitchen staff asked about dinner, Octavia waved them off-stressed and without any appetite-completely forgetting Cindy was still at home.
The late night bowl of soup was just business as usual. In the past, Octavia never bothered to cook for Claire at this hour. She always claimed young girls should eat¶ess at night-or better yet, skip dinner entirely-to keep their figures. Latham and Lance had no problem with that; they agreed with her reasoning. If Claire ever felt hungry, she knew how to whip up something herself or just go out and buy a snack. As far as the men of the James family were concerned, Claire was only skipping meals to stay thin.
No wonder it never occurred to anyone to invite Cindy to join them.
Latham glanced up and caught sight of his daughter. "You're still up?" he asked, frowning. With both the James and the Byron families in crisis right now, no one had time—or energy-to worry about Cindy's recent exam results.
He almost asked what she planned to do next, but thought better of it; at the mention of her future, she'd probably just start crying again. After everything that had gone wrong with the company in the last two days, the last thing he could handle was more bad news or tears from his child.
"No," Cindy mumbled, listlessly.
"Are you hungry?" Octavia's voice softened a bit when she finally noticed her daughter standing there. "If there's anything you want to eat, I can ask the housekeeper to make it for you." She realized too late that she hadnt even called Cindy for dinner. Now her daughter was seeing the rest of the family eating together while she stood alone, and Octavia could imagine how that must feel.
"I'm fine. I've been stuck at home all day—I just want to get some air." Cindy refused
to admit she was starving too. She didn't even want to eat here, not with such a
stifling atmosphere. Whatever the problem was, she just couldn't bring herself to take a single bite.
She couldn't tell if she was just being unreasonable, or if something else was wrong with her.