Austin froze with the tongs in midair. Kayleigh laughed nervously. “Darlene, it’s just leftovers.” “They aren’t leftovers yet,” I said. “Everyone here hasn’t finished eating. And nobody offered them to you.” Doreen pressed her hand to her chest as if I had slapped her. “Well,” she said, “I didn’t realize we were being charged admission.” Hal set the grill lid down with a clang.
Austin slowly laid the tongs on the platter and began putting the brisket back. Kayleigh grabbed his wrist. “Don’t you dare,” she hissed. “Tell her. Tell her why we need it.” The whole backyard went still. My son looked at me for the first time all afternoon, and his eyes filled with tears. “Mom,” he said quietly, “we haven’t been able to afford groceries in three weeks.”
