When we entered the backyard, Tom waved from the grill.
“Good to see you, Julian.”
Stella admired the spread.
“This is quite a feast.”
Tom looked proud.
“Betty bought thirty-three pounds of beef.”
The moment he said it, Rachel and Stella exchanged a quick glance.
Their expressions did not show gratitude.
They showed calculation.
“Thirty-three pounds?” Rachel laughed. “No wonder we brought containers.”
The patio went still.
Realizing what she had admitted, Rachel quickly added, “You always make too much, Betty. We didn’t want anything to be wasted.”
Nothing had even been served.
Lunch began pleasantly enough on the surface.
Rachel and Stella immediately sat down. Neither offered to help.
Then the comments started.
Stella looked toward my flower bed.
“Your roses are surviving the heat surprisingly well, though the one near the fence looks tired.”
I had watered those roses every morning.
Rachel touched my green tablecloth.
“This is cute. Vintage?”
