She claimed she had found it near the guest bathroom.
William talked to her. She cried. Somehow, I ended up apologizing.
That was Melissa’s gift: she could steal your shoes and make you feel guilty for needing to walk.
“Don’t make it weird.”
I tucked the necklace back into the pouch and crossed to the garage before she reached the porch. I unlocked the tall cabinet and set the pouch behind the spare sprinkler heads.
The lock clicked when I turned the key, but the old latch had been loose for months. I gave it a tug anyway.
It held.
At least, I thought it did.
When I turned, Melissa was standing at the garage opening.
“Good grief,” I said. “You scared me.”
I gave it a tug anyway.
“Sorry!” she chirped. “I came to help the perfect hostess.”
Ryan appeared behind her. “She means hello.”
Melissa shot him a look.
I slipped the keys into my pocket. “You’re early.”
“I know. Isn’t that nice?” Her eyes swept the shelves behind me. “Need chairs? Ice? Tablecloths?”
“We’re set.”
“Bug spray?”
“On the patio.”
“She means hello.”
Her smile tightened.
Ryan cleared his throat. “Mel, she said she’s set.”
I almost laughed, but Melissa turned to me.
“Gaia knows I mean well.” She tilted her head. “Don’t you?”
There it was. The hook under the sugar.
I smiled the way I smiled when I didn’t want to start a fight.
“Gaia knows I mean well.”
“Come on,” I said. “You can help Elaine with dessert. She’s making pie from scratch.”
For the next hour, Melissa auditioned for sainthood.
She carried napkins outside, came back for cups we didn’t need, and praised my lemonade twice.
Melissa smiled too wide.
William leaned near me while I arranged corn on a platter. “Is it me, or is Melissa being nice?”
“It’s not you.”
“Fake nice?”
“Mid-level fake.”
Melissa smiled too wide.
He smiled and reached for the platter.
That’s when I heard Elaine’s voice from the front room.
“I’m giving it to Gaia tonight,” she told George. “She’s earned it.”
I froze with cherry juice on my fingers.
So did Melissa.
She stood by the counter, her hand hovering over the napkins.
“She’s earned it.”
Her face changed. She wasn’t hurt or confused. She was Furious.
Then she caught me looking.
“Napkins,” she said loudly, grabbing them. “Found them.”
“They were right next to you,” I said.
“Silly me.” Her laugh had edges. “You really do get everything, don’t you?”
I dried my hands. “Say what you mean.”
“You really do get everything, don’t you?”
She stepped closer. “Mom talks about you like you’re the daughter she always wanted.”
“Melissa, not today.”
“I’m not doing anything.” She lifted the napkins. “I’m helping.”
“No,” I said quietly. “You’re circling.”
Her smile slipped.
Before she could answer, Mason ran in, dripping water.
“Mom, Maisie says I can’t be a firework captain.”
“You’re circling.”
“Nobody is a firework captain. Go outside.”
Melissa’s eyes flicked toward the hallway.
As soon as she left, I crossed the driveway and checked the garage cabinet.
The pouch was still there.
I told myself to breathe.
The pouch was still there.
The party moved on. George guarded his grill tongs. Elaine squeezed my arm whenever she passed.
That’s what I wanted to protect.
Peace.
At sunset, William frowned. “Where are the sparklers?”
“Garage. Top shelf.”
“I’ll go.”
“No, stay with the twins.”
“Where are the sparklers?”
I crossed the driveway as the first firework cracked over the lake.
The garage side door opened.
Melissa stepped out.
We both froze.
Her face was flushed. Both hands smoothed the front of her floral skirt.
“Oh God,” she said, laughing. “You scared me.”
I looked past her into the dark garage.
We both froze.
“What are you doing in there?”
“I got lost looking for the bathroom.”
“The bathroom is inside the house, Melissa. You know this.”
“I know,” she said too quickly. “I thought there was a door inside.”
“You took a wrong turn across the driveway and into the garage?”
Her smile twitched. “It’s dark.”
“What are you doing in there?”
“The patio lights are on.”
“Gaia, move.”
That did it.
Not the lie. Not even the garage.
The command.
I stepped into her path. “What are you hiding?”
“The patio lights are on.”
Her eyes flashed. “Nothing.”
“Melissa.”
“Move.”
“Show me.”
She clutched her skirt with both hands. “It’s none of your business.”
Then I saw it.
“It’s none of your business.”
A strip of white fabric hanging just below the hem.
My body went cold before my mind caught up.
“What’s under your skirt?”
Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.
“Melissa,” I said, slower this time. “Show me.”
She spun toward the gate.
“Show me.”
“Stop,” I said.
Her yellow heel caught in the crack near the driveway edge.
She stumbled hard.
Both hands flew out.
The white satin pouch slid from beneath her skirt and hit the concrete.
