Even though I’d handed the waiter my credit card, he returned the check to Jonathan; I reached across the table for it. Then, even though I signed the receipt, retrieved the card from the little tray, even though I was the one who made more money, Amber thanked Dr. Gordon—meaning Jonathan—for the meal. I was deciding if I should ask, as lightly as possible, why people always thanked the man, if that would be good modeling for Amber or just embarrass her, but Adam, in a brief flash of maturity: “And thank you, Mom.”
