I told myself it was nothing.
I was slicing sandwiches at the kitchen counter when the shouting reached me.
It was not my children’s laughter.
It was an adult voice, sharp and furious, cutting through the afternoon.
I dropped the knife and hurried out the back door.
Katherine stood beside my pool, her arms crossed, leaning over my youngest with a scowl.
The gate in my fence hung open behind her.
It was an adult voice, sharp and furious
She had walked straight into my backyard without asking.
“What’s going on?” I asked, moving between her and my kids. “Did something happen?”
“Your kids are TOO LOUD,” she snapped. “I want some peace and quiet. Is that too much to ask?”
I looked at my four children, dripping wet and frozen in place.
Their faces had gone pale.
“Your kids are TOO LOUD,”
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “I’ll ask them to keep it down.”
