I glanced at her.
“And the garbage?”
Her cheeks reddened. “I was lazy.”
“That answer is surprisingly efficient.”
She laughed despite herself.
“I was lazy.”
Then her expression softened.
“What I said about you not having kids was cruel.”
I stopped collecting cups.
Marie looked toward Tommy.
“You’ve always been good to him. I acted like that made your home partly mine.”
“It doesn’t.”
“I know.”
“What I said about you not having kids was cruel.”
She carried the trash bag to the bin.
That was the first apology Marie ever gave me without attaching the word “but.”
***
Three weeks later, the pool sparkled again.
The lounge chairs were replaced.
The lavender survived.
The wedding-gift bowl did not, but Marie found the same pattern online and sent it with a card.
It read: For salads only. Not water balloons.
Three weeks later, the pool sparkled again.
Musk returned to the backyard once the final contractor left.
