Chapter 23 - The Party We Chose
For Gloria’s seventieth birthday, Kayla asked:
“What do you want?”
“No party.”
Naturally, we had one.
Small.
Twenty people.
Potluck.
Rule:
Gloria cooks nothing.
She fought.
Lost.
Mrs. Delaney brought cookies.
Maria brought roast chicken.
Kayla brought peach cobbler she had learned from Gloria.
It was slightly underbaked.
Gloria ate two servings.
Kevin brought tomato soup.
He had practiced.
It was too salty.
Gloria said:
“It’s perfect.”
I said:
“Liar.”
She kicked me gently under table.
Tiffany attended for one hour because Gloria agreed.
No champagne announcement.
No speeches except Kayla.
“Grandma taught me food can be love, but love shouldn’t require somebody cooking thirty eight dishes alone.”
Everyone laughed.
Gloria cried.
Then Kayla continued:
“And Grandpa taught me banks should call the real person.”
Bigger laugh.
I raised glass.
Fair.
After guests left, Gloria looked at backyard.
“Remember?”
“Yes.”
“Seventy five people walked out.”
“Yes.”
“Would you open the gate again?”
“In a second.”
She smiled.
“That was my favorite part.”
Not court.
Not loan release.
May you like
Neighbors eating.
The moment humiliation stopped belonging to Tiffany.
