Chapter 7 - Noon
At eleven fifty-eight Saturday morning, Melanie sat at the wooden table in her emerald-green blouse.
Her coffee was hot.
Her salad was unopened.
The green folder rested on the chair beside her.
At noon, the first car pulled into the driveway.
Ryan hurried downstairs, wearing a blue-and-white checkered shirt. He looked at the spotless stove and frowned.
“You haven’t started?”
“No.”
Before he could respond, the front door opened.
His mother entered carrying napkins and a bottle of soda.
Tyler followed with beer.
Others arrived with ice, cups, disposable forks, and cheerful voices.
No one brought food.
The cheerful voices stopped when they reached the kitchen.
Ryan’s mother opened the oven.
Empty.
She checked the counters.
Empty.
Then she looked at Melanie.
“Where’s the birthday food?”
Ryan forced a smile. “Melanie, everyone is waiting.”
Melanie placed her mug down.
“You said anyone who wants to eat should buy their own food.”
Ryan’s mother looked at him.
Ryan’s jaw tightened. “Not today. It’s my birthday.”
Melanie reached for the green folder.
“Good,” she said. “Then today everyone learns who paid for the last six years.”
A cousin near the doorway gave a nervous laugh.
No one joined him.
May you like
Melanie opened the folder.
And for the first time, Ryan looked afraid of the truth.
