“They booked a table at The Gilded Lantern,” I said. “Jake insisted on it.”
She stopped walking and looked toward our front door.
“That’s a lovely place,” she said, her voice dropping a little. “You should let them spoil you. You’ve spent twenty-five years putting everyone else first.”
“I’m a little nervous about it, to be honest,” I said, looking down at the wooden porch steps.
“Nervous about a dinner?” she asked.
“I don’t want to make a fuss,” I said, my voice dropping. “Damon says it’s an expensive place, and I don’t want to look out of place.”
Mrs. Gable looked at me for a long moment, her hand resting on the wooden railing of my porch.
“A woman should shine on her birthday, Elena,” she said softly. “Don’t let anyone make you feel small in your own skin.”
She patted my arm before turning to walk back to her house, leaving her words hanging in the cool afternoon air.
