Part 2
Morning light spread across the backyard as we carried the last trays outside.
Our yard was simple—a concrete patio, a narrow lawn, and a chain-link fence bordered by our neighbor’s flowers. It would never look like an expensive event venue, but Gloria had turned it into something warm. White tablecloths covered borrowed folding tables, rosemary centerpieces sat inside mason jars, and balloons lined the fence.
To me, it looked perfect.
Every trip across the yard reminded me that my back had not forgiven the previous day. By the time I finished tying the last balloon, I had to brace myself against the fence to straighten up.
Our neighbor, Miss Doy, noticed immediately.
“Hank Coleman,” she called from the gate, “you’re moving like you’re eighty.”
“I’m decorating.”
“You’re barely standing.”
She walked over carrying a mug of coffee and sat down without waiting for an invitation.
“What happened?”
I told her everything.
The impossible menu.
The three grocery stores.
Gloria’s burned hand.
The night without sleep.
Miss Doy listened quietly.
When I finished, she shook her head.
“That daughter-in-law of yours has some nerve.”
“She’s family,” I answered.
Miss Doy simply raised an eyebrow.
Sometimes that said more than words.
By midmorning everything was ready.
The food filled every table.
The smell of roasted chicken, fresh bread, herbs, butter, and peach cobbler drifted through the yard.
It wasn’t elegant.
It was made with love.
At 10:15, Kevin called.
“Everything on track?” he asked casually.
“Yes.”
“Great. We’ll be there at three.”
The call lasted less than thirty seconds.
He never asked how his mother was feeling.
He never asked whether we needed help.
He never mentioned the thirty-eight dishes.
At one o’clock, Gloria finally placed the last serving bowl on the table.
She looked exhausted.
The bandage around her fingers was beginning to loosen.
“It’s beautiful,” I said.
She smiled softly.
“For Kayla.”
The first cars arrived shortly before three.
Tiffany walked into the yard taking photographs before she greeted Gloria.
Kevin followed behind her, once again staring at his phone.
Tiffany’s parents complimented the decorations politely, although her mother described everything as “homey” with a smile that didn’t feel kind.
Kayla arrived with several friends.
One teenager immediately recorded the decorations for social media.
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