Part 2:

Then she hung up.

She did not ask. She did not offer to bring anything. She simply informed me that I would be feeding her entire family for three days.

That evening, I told Bryan.

“She’s coming for the Fourth.”

He looked up from his laptop, already nervous. “That’s… nice?”

“With everyone. For the whole weekend.”

He closed the laptop. “Are you okay with that?”

Was I okay with spending another three hundred dollars on groceries for people who treated my house like a free vacation rental? Was I okay with being criticized while I cooked, cleaned, served, and smiled?

I looked at him and smiled sweetly.

“I’m fine,” I said. “Absolutely fine.”

And that was when my plan began.

Friday afternoon arrived with three cars in the driveway and zero grocery bags.

Juliette stepped out first, wearing an oversized sun hat and the expression of someone expecting full service. Sarah and Kate followed, carrying designer purses and nothing else. The six children poured onto the lawn like someone had opened a gate at a zoo.

“Annie!” Juliette said, sweeping me into a perfume-heavy hug. “I hope everything is ready. We’re starving.”

“Almost ready,” I said brightly.

The picnic table looked beautiful. I had set out mason jars filled with wildflowers from my garden, folded cloth napkins, and a pitcher of fresh lemonade glowing in the afternoon sun. It looked like something from a magazine.

Sarah sat down and smiled. “You always make things look so nice.”

Kate glanced around. “Where’s the food?”

“Coming right up,” I said.

I went into the kitchen and returned with my masterpiece.

A tray of cucumber sandwiches.

The crusts were removed. The slices were cut into neat little triangles. Beside them sat a pot of lukewarm black tea.

For a moment, nobody spoke.

Juliette stared at the tray as if I had placed a tax bill in front of her.

“Annie,” she said slowly, “where is the barbecue?”

I tilted my head and smiled.

“Oh, I didn’t shop this time. Since everyone loves our barbecue so much, I thought you would want to bring the meat yourselves.”

The silence was beautiful.

Sarah’s mouth opened. Kate froze. Juliette blinked like her brain had just stopped loading.

“There’s a butcher about fifteen minutes down Riverview Road,” I continued cheerfully. “They’re open until six. The grill is ready, and there’s fresh charcoal in the storage bin.”

Juliette’s face tightened.

“But you invited us,” she said.

“Actually,” I replied calmly, “you invited yourselves.”