Based on the snippets of information that Sonia had provided about her parents, Violet had envisione

Based on the snippets of information that Sonia had provided about her parents, Violet had envisioned Frank and Estelle de Prima to be a pair of reactionary relics, trapped for posterity in a paranoid, xenophobic existence, all their energies spent bemoaning the disintegration of the traditional family and the threat posed to their way of life by liberals, socialists, and immigrants. Frank had been just as she had expected, although she had been surprised he had actually shaken her hand. (The reality was that he was a man who prided himself on his good manners, especially towards the fairer sex, and any lapse was perceived as a threat to the civilized order.) And now Violet is standing in the de Prima’s living room and Estelle is standing in the kitchen, looking small and frail, and blinking in confusion. The room is blanketed in intoxicating layers of smells, pie crust and fresh-baked bread and garlic and coriander. Michael Bublé croons innocuously from the stereo. 

“Hello!” exclaims Violet. “You must be Sonia’s mother. I’m Violet. It’s lovely to meet you, Estelle!” 

Estelle’s blinking intensifies. Sonia stands at the top of the stairs, unable to move. Her mother’s head swivels in her direction.

“Where are the children? Where’s Roy?” Estelle asks.

“We left the children at home,“ says Sonia. “And Roy….Roy isn’t coming, either.” 

“But I made his favourite lemon chiffon pie!” says Estelle. She looks like she might cry. They can hear the thud of Frank’s footsteps coming up the stairs. 

“It’s okay, Estelle, I love lemon chiffon pie!” says Violet. Estelle has so far refused to acknowledge her presence. She again addresses Sonia.  

“Why aren’t Roy and the children here?” she says in a plaintive voice. Sonia looks helplessly at Violet, who gives her a smile of gentle encouragement. 

“I’ll explain when we’re all sitting down,“ says Sonia.

“Don’t worry, Estelle,” says Frank, standing behind Sonia. “I’m sure there’s a perfectly plausible explanation.” 

Sonia turns to face him, and his face is waxen with repressed fury. 

“You will not do this, Sonia,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “You will not do this to your mother. I forbidit.”