Chapter 9 - THE SECOND BARBECUE
The idea belonged to Emma.
That surprised everyone.
It was late May when she announced it at breakfast.
“I want another barbecue.”
Daniel lowered his coffee.
Margaret stopped buttering toast.
Emma rolled her eyes.
“You both look weird.”
Daniel recovered first.
“A barbecue?”
“Yes.”
“In the backyard?”
“That is where barbecues usually happen.”
Margaret hid a smile.
Daniel asked, “Why?”
Emma shrugged.
“Because I like grilled corn.”
“That cannot be the only reason.”
“It is not.”
She stirred her cereal.
“I’m tired of the backyard feeling like hers.”
Daniel did not answer immediately.
He had learned that not every brave idea needed adult enthusiasm poured over it.
“What would make it feel safe?”
Emma had a list.
Small guest group.
No surprise visitors.
No alcohol.
Margaret near the porch.
Daniel at the grill but not disappearing for supplies.
A cooler already full of ice.
The side gate locked once everyone arrived.
Music Emma chose.
And no barbecue sauce bowls.
Daniel smiled.
“We can use bottles.”
Emma nodded.
“Bottles are fine.”
They invited the Howards, two families from school, Dr. Patel—who politely declined because therapists did not attend clients’ family parties—and Caroline, who accepted.
Emma chose yellow paper lanterns.
Not white.
She helped Daniel set up the tables.
On the morning of the barbecue, she stood on the blue porch step holding a roll of tape.
Daniel watched her.
“You okay?”
“Nervous.”
“Want to cancel?”
“No.”
“Want fewer people?”
“No.”
“Want me to stop asking questions?”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
“Excellent boundary.”
The first guests arrived at four.
Emma’s body tightened when the gate opened.
Then she saw Mrs. Howard carrying a bowl of fruit.
She relaxed.
Each arrival became easier.
By five, music played softly.
Kids kicked a soccer ball across the lawn.
Daniel grilled burgers.
Margaret sat under the maple tree wearing a wide-brimmed hat she claimed made her look mysterious.
“It makes you look like you’re hiding from taxes,” Daniel told her.
She threw a napkin at him.
Emma laughed.
At the condiment table, she stopped.
There were mustard bottles.
Ketchup.
Pickles.
A sealed bottle of barbecue sauce.
For a moment, her face changed.
Daniel saw from across the yard.
He did not move toward her.
Margaret did not either.
Emma reached for the barbecue sauce.
She opened it.
Put some on her plate.
Closed it.
Then walked away.
The action lasted six seconds.
No one cheered.
No one announced anything.
That was exactly right.
Later, Mr. Howard approached Daniel.
“I’m sorry.”
Daniel looked at him.
“For what?”
“For waiting so long that day.”
Daniel understood.
Mr. Howard had recorded the incident.
He had also hesitated before intervening.
“I keep thinking I should’ve stepped in sooner.”
Daniel looked toward Emma.
She was teaching a younger child how to throw a foam football.
“So do I.”
Mr. Howard nodded.
Daniel added, “Maybe we both do better next time.”
The words were not absolution.
They were responsibility.
Near sunset, Emma carried a plate of cake outside.
Margaret noticed.
“You sure about that?”
Emma smirked.
“It’s cake.”
“I have history with cake.”
“So does Rachel.”
Margaret laughed so hard she had to set down her drink.
Emma sat beside her.
For a while, they watched the yard.
Then Emma said, “Grandma?”
“Yes?”
“Did you know you were going to smash the cake in her face?”
Margaret considered the question solemnly.
“Absolutely not.”
“Why did you?”
“It was available.”
Emma laughed.
Margaret leaned closer.
“Not one of my most dignified moments.”
“It was kind of awesome.”
“Do not quote me in therapy.”
Emma smiled.
Then the smile faded.
“I was scared when she hit you.”
Margaret’s face softened.
“I know.”
“I thought she was going to hurt you because of me.”
“No.”
Emma looked at her.
“What happened was because Rachel chose to hit me.”
Margaret tapped the table once with her finger.
“You are not responsible for what adults choose to do.”
Emma nodded slowly.
She had heard versions of that sentence many times.
This time, it seemed to land somewhere deeper.
As darkness came, Daniel lit the paper lanterns.
Yellow circles glowed above the tables.
Emma stood beneath them.
The yard no longer looked like the scene from the video.
The porch step was blue.
The condiment table was new.
The camera above the door was gone.
The people here knew the truth.
No one was pretending.
Emma realized something then.
Safety did not mean nothing bad could ever happen.
It meant she no longer had to face bad things alone.
She walked toward the grill.
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re burning the corn.”
Daniel turned.
Smoke rose from one blackened row.
“Strategic caramelization.”
“That’s not what that is.”
Caroline laughed from the table.
Margaret shouted, “I told you not to put him in charge.”
Daniel handed Emma the tongs.
“You want the job?”
She took them.
“Move.”
He moved immediately.
Emma smiled.
The backyard filled with laughter.
And this time, the sound belonged to her.
The second barbecue also revealed how much Daniel had changed. When the cooler ran low on ice, his old instinct was to grab his keys and make a quick store run. He stopped himself. A year earlier, leaving for ten minutes had helped create the opening in which Rachel hurt Emma. The lesson was not that Daniel could never leave a backyard again. The lesson was that he had promised this particular day would feel predictable. He asked Mr. Howard to pick up ice instead. Emma saw the exchange and kept playing.
May you like
Caroline arrived carrying store-bought cookies. Margaret teased the attorney for not bringing legal documents. Caroline replied that she had been specifically instructed by Daniel to behave like a civilian. Emma overheard and said, “Good.” Everyone laughed. The case that had once dominated every room had become something they could reference without surrendering the room to it.
Near the end of the night, Emma took a photograph of the backyard. Yellow lanterns. Friends. Her grandmother under the maple tree. Daniel holding a burned corn cob like evidence in a trial. She saved the picture as SUMMER. Not SECOND BARBECUE. Not AFTER RACHEL. Just SUMMER. Months later, when Daniel saw the file name while helping transfer photos to a new tablet, he had to look away for a moment before Emma noticed he was crying.
