He gave me a side hug, warm, genuine, and for a second I remembered the dad I wished he had always been.
Then Mom appeared from the kitchen with her usual forced smile. “Dana, you’re late. It’s 12:15. You said noon.”
“Well, we start on time here. Tracy texted she and Derek are running late. He had a work call.”
Of course Tracy would be late to her own spotlight.
I bit my tongue. Sophie was already in the yard playing tag with Cole and Haley, showing them the bracelets she’d made.
My aunt Patricia, Mom’s sister, was there too. She’s sixty, divorced, no kids, and honestly the only sane one in the bunch. She hugged me tight and whispered, “Same circus, different year.”
That made me laugh. Really laugh. For the first time that day.
Inside, Martha had laid out her best platter of cheese and crackers like she was hosting a state dinner. She bragged about Cole’s math scores, Haley’s gymnastics medals, and somehow managed to avoid even looking at Sophie’s braids. I was used to it, but every time it stung.
The hour passed in a blur of small talk and relatives pretending they cared about each other. At 1:30, the front door opened and in swept Tracy. Same as always, like the party hadn’t started until she arrived. Designer jeans, expensive haircut, Derek trailing behind her with a bakery cake box that probably cost a week’s groceries.
“Oh, wait. Sorry, Dana,” she said, fake-laughing. “Cute dress. Target?”
“Good to see you too, Tracy.”
Derek gave me a sheepish wave. He always looked like he regretted his life choices.
Mom rushed to take the cake from him like it was the crown jewels. “From that French bakery downtown. Tracy insisted. Isn’t she thoughtful?”
Yeah. Thoughtful about herself.
I tried to ignore her, sipping lemonade, chatting with Patricia, watching Sophie run in from the yard, face flushed with excitement.
“Mom, can I go upstairs? Cole says he has a new game.”
Before I could answer, Tracy cut in. “Oh, yes. Cole’s been dying to show everyone his new system. All the kids are going up. Right, Haley?”
Her eyes lingered on Sophie’s hair, and something flickered there.
Sophie looked up at me, hopeful. “Is it okay, Mommy?”
I hesitated.
My gut told me no.
My gut screamed no.
But all around me were relatives watching, waiting to see if I’d be the overprotective killjoy again.
“Sure, honey. Have fun.”
I watched her skip toward the stairs, bracelets jingling, braids swinging, Tracy’s gaze locked on her like a hawk sizing up prey. And I swear in that moment, something in me knew this was about to go very, very wrong.
I set my glass down and forced myself to breathe slowly while I kept my eyes on the staircase. Sophie’s laughter floated down from the second floor, mixed with the voices of Cole and Haley. For a moment, it sounded harmless. Kids being kids.
I tried to relax, but that flicker in Tracy’s eyes when she looked at Sophie’s braids kept replaying in my head like a bad loop.
In the backyard, relatives milled around the grill, plates piled high with ribs and potato salad. I made small talk with Patricia, who was sipping iced tea like it was whiskey, rolling her eyes every time Martha bragged about Tracy.
“Cole’s already doing pre-algebra,” Martha announced proudly to a cousin I didn’t even recognize. “And Haley placed second at the regional gymnastics competition. Judges say she’s Olympic material.”
I didn’t bother pointing out that Sophie had just won an art award at school, because I knew Martha wouldn’t care.
My mind kept drifting upstairs. It was too quiet. For a house with three kids under twelve in one room, it should have sounded like a stampede.
Patricia touched my arm. “Something’s off,” she whispered.
“You feel it too?”
