“It happened fast,” Ellie said, her eyes darting to the garage door. “You know how commercial leases are. They just push you out when they want to renovate.”
“I know they usually take more than a week to sign,” I said. “And the deposit is usually quite steep.”
Brad cleared his throat, moving past me with the box of cupcakes. “Let us get these out of the sun, Marla. We do not need the icing running all over the driveway. We have guests arriving in a few minutes.”
I watched him walk away, his stride long and hurried, while Ellie followed close behind him, her loose green blouse billowing in the wind. There was a rhythm to their movements that felt practiced, like two dancers who had rehearsed the steps in private.
The smoke from the charcoal grill drifted across the patio, carrying the scent of seared beef and lighter fluid. Brad stood by the iron grate, flipping burgers with a long pair of tongs while his mother watched from the shade of the large maple tree.
I walked out of the kitchen carrying the heavy silver cake spatula, the one my grandmother had given us for our wedding twelve years ago. The polished metal caught the bright July sun, reflecting a sharp beam of light across the grass.
“You will need this for the sheet cake in a minute,” I said, holding the handle out toward Brad.
He did not reach for it, his eyes fixed on the coals. “Just set it by the buns, Marla.”
“The table is too crowded,” I said, my voice tight. “Take it now so we do not lose it in the grass.”
“He is right there, Marla, stop making a fuss over nothing,” Gloria called out from her lawn chair, her lace handkerchief fluttering as she waved away a fly.
Before I could answer, Will came sprinting across the lawn, his small sneakers thudding against the dry turf. He lunged at my skirt, his fingers digging into the cotton fabric of my hem with a frantic grip.
