Three-year-old Connor opened his sandwich.
He stared suspiciously at the cucumber.
“This tastes like plants.”
Then he dropped it.
“I don’t like coo-coom-bur!”
Marlene pushed back her chair.
“This is incredibly rude.”
“Is it?”
“We’re family.”
“Exactly.”
I nodded.
“Family helps each other.”
She stared.
“We’ve hosted nearly every holiday for four years.”
I gestured toward the empty driveway.
“I thought perhaps this year somebody else could bring something.”
Sarah and Kate exchanged looks.
Neither offered to go shopping.
That told me everything.
THEN ETHAN STEPPED FORWARD
For most of our marriage, Ethan would have tried smoothing everything over.
Not that afternoon.
He stepped out from the kitchen.
“There’s a really good meat market in Bellmere.”
Marlene turned.
“What?”
“I can show you where it is.”
Ethan pointed toward the driveway.
“We can all go pick up burgers, ribs, hot dogs—whatever everyone wants.”
Marlene’s eyes narrowed.
