Chapter 4 - When Everybody Has an Opinion
Three days after the bakery video appeared online, Loretta's grandson arrived at her house carrying a tripod.
She opened the door and stared at it.
"What is that contraption?"
"Grandma, we should make a response video."
"A response to what?"
"To everything. People are asking where you shop, what you eat, whether you've always been this funny. You could get a whole following."
Loretta walked back into the kitchen.
Malik followed.
"You don't understand. The bakery could get free publicity. Maybe somebody would sponsor you."
"At my age, if somebody wants to sponsor me, they can start with my electricity bill."
Malik laughed.
But Loretta was serious.
She had spent two days receiving phone calls from distant cousins and former coworkers.
One woman wanted her to appear on a neighborhood podcast.
Another suggested selling T-shirts with her punchline.
Meanwhile, Simone was being insulted by people who had never met her.
Loretta could enjoy a clever comeback without enjoying what strangers were doing with it.
"That girl was rude," she told Malik. "But she is still somebody's daughter."
Malik lowered the tripod.
"So you're not doing a video?"
"No."
"Not even for the bakery?"
Loretta thought about Tasha's worried face.
"Especially not if it turns a place I love into somebody's circus."
Across town, Simone was having a different conversation.
Renée had called her into the Community Table office.
"The sponsor hasn't canceled the funding," Renée explained. "But they're nervous."
Simone sat opposite her.
"I understand."
"They're asking whether we can make a public statement with you and Ms. Washington."
Simone frowned.
"A statement?"
"An apology. A reconciliation. Something that shows the community we've dealt with this."
"You mean a video."
Renée sighed.
"The situation is visible. They want a visible response."
Simone looked through the glass wall toward coworkers assembling food assistance packets.
Before Saturday, those colleagues had respected her ability to speak confidently to groups.
Now every time someone fell silent when she entered a room, she wondered whether they had been watching the clip.
"I've apologized to Ms. Washington," Simone said.
"Privately."
"That's how I embarrassed her in the first place. I don't want to turn the apology into publicity."
Renée rubbed her forehead.
"Then help me find another solution. We have food orders waiting and volunteers who need confirmation."
Simone offered to withdraw from the public-facing role.
Renée did not accept immediately.
"This project needs someone who understands the logistics. But I also need evidence that you've learned something."
That evening, Simone called Andre.
He answered on the fourth ring.
"Hey."
"Hey," she replied.
An uncomfortable silence followed.
"I saw your video," he said.
Simone closed her eyes.
"Of course you did."
"Everybody did."
"I know."
Andre waited.
Simone nearly began explaining herself.
She wanted to describe their mother, the years of worrying, the fear she carried whenever someone dismissed health advice.
Instead, she asked, "Have I been doing that to you?"
Andre exhaled.
"Not exactly like that. But whenever I tell you what I ate, you tell me what I should've eaten."
"I thought I was helping."
"I know. That's why I stopped telling you things."
The sentence hurt more than the online comments.
Simone sat very still.
She remembered the dinners Andre had stopped attending. The unanswered messages. The way he had become careful around her.
"I didn't realize it felt that way."
"That's part of the problem, Simone. You don't leave much room for people to tell you."
After they hung up, she opened her phone and started deleting the unsolicited nutrition articles she had been preparing to send him.
Then she opened her presentation.
The first slide read:
HELPING OUR COMMUNITY MAKE BETTER FOOD CHOICES.
She stared at it.
Better according to whom?
She changed the title:
MAKING MORE BREAKFAST CHOICES AVAILABLE.
It was a small correction.
But it changed the way she approached every slide that followed.
On Thursday, Renée called with news.
The sponsor would allow the project to proceed to a community review meeting, where the proposed menu, budget, and outreach plan could be discussed before a decision.
There was one condition.
Because the incident had become public, Simone would need to address her behavior if it came up.
No staged reconciliation was required, but the meeting could not pretend the controversy did not exist.
Simone agreed.
Then Renée added something unexpected.
"Ms. Washington has offered to attend."
Simone sat upright.
"Loretta?"
"Yes. She says she wants to make sure the people receiving the breakfasts actually get a voice."
For a long moment, Simone said nothing.
The woman she had judged over a box of donuts was choosing to participate in a project Simone might otherwise lose.
But Loretta was not coming to defend her.
May you like
She was coming to defend something both of them had nearly forgotten.
The people the program was supposed to serve.
