That was the moment I realized: my child could eat. He just wouldn't eat what I made.
My face burned. I grabbed him by the arm and hauled him to his feet.
"I make you dinner and you won't touch it, but you'll come over here and eat this?"
Nora stood right there, smiling. "Was Auntie's food yummy?"
John nodded so fast his head was a blur. "So yummy!"
"Mommy, I want more!"
"You want more, you eat at home!"
"Oh, Johnny just came over to play with Lily Whitfield," Nora said, her tone breezy and casual. "We'd just finished eating and I hadn't cleared the table yet. He looked hungry, so I fixed him a bowl. I didn't expect him to actually want our leftovers."
Then her smile sharpened, just a fraction.
"Judy Fox, don't take this the wrong way, but boys his age need to eat. You've got to let him eat his fill. How's he supposed to grow otherwise? Look how skinny he is."
The heat in my face spread to my ears.
"It's not that I won't let him eat. I practically shove the spoon into his mouth and he still refuses."
Nora gave me a look that said she didn't believe a single word.
Back home, I was seething.
John screamed right back at me.