Chapter 26 - The next barbecue
Three years after the assault, we hosted a barbecue.
Our house.
Not Helen and Frank’s.
Lily was twelve.
Her leg had healed fully.
No limp.
No surgery.
A small tenderness during the first year had disappeared.
Carla did not attend.
Her contact with Lily had not progressed beyond occasional therapist-approved letters.
Helen and Frank came.
By invitation.
Frank carried a tray of corn.
Helen brought potato salad.
Daniel grilled.
I watched Frank set a container of barbecue tools on the table.
Tongs.
Spatula.
Steel skewers.
My body reacted before my mind.
Cold.
Lily saw.
She was twelve now.
Tall.
Purple was still her favorite color.
She looked at the skewers.
Then at me.
“Mom.”
“I’m okay.”
Frank noticed.
He immediately picked up the container.
“I can put these away.”
Three years earlier, he might have said:
They’re just tools.
Don’t make a scene.
Now he asked.
I thought.
“No.”
He stopped.
“They’re barbecue skewers.”
“Yes.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
I was.
He placed them beside the grill.
Nobody touched them in anger.
That was all.
Later, Lily and Helen argued over whether Lily could have another soda.
Helen said:
“Your mother said one.”
Lily groaned.
“But—”
Helen held up both hands.
“Take it up with your mother.”
I laughed so hard Helen became offended.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
That was exactly what I wanted.
Adult authority with boundaries.
No secret committee.
No alternate government.
Lily asked me.
I said no.
She complained.
Then drank water.
May you like
No one punished the complaint.
The afternoon continued.
