“Who’s paying for that?”
“We are.”
I pointed toward Tommy, who was helping a smaller child climb into the bounce house.
“He deserves a good birthday.”
“Who’s paying for that?”
Something shifted in Marie’s face.
Not defeat.
Recognition.
***
The party was wonderful.
Tommy received tiger face paint and spent the afternoon roaring at adults.
Grandma danced with the magician’s assistant.
Uncle Leonard entered the bounce house, immediately regretted it, and had to be guided out by three children.
The party was wonderful.
Glenn served burgers.
I cut the dinosaur cake.
Musk eventually appeared on the porch, accepted chicken from Tommy, then retreated before anyone attempted face paint.
***
Near sunset, Marie found me collecting paper cups. She picked up a trash bag and began helping.
Then she said, “I shouldn’t have used your house.”
“No.”
“I shouldn’t have used your house.”
“I thought because you’re family…” She tied the bag. “I treated asking permission like a technicality.”
