“Yes! We’ll arrive Friday afternoon. Make sure you get plenty of those little sausages. The kids devour them! Oh, and that potato salad? Sarah hasn’t stopped talking about it! Don’t forget the ribs, hon. Juicy, like last time!”
The line went dead. I stared at the phone, feeling something shift inside me like a tectonic plate finding its new position.
“She’s coming for the Fourth,” I announced to Bryan that evening.
He looked up from his laptop, already sensing trouble. “That’s… nice?”
“With everyone. The whole weekend.”
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