Sarah stood near the island, chatting with two women in sharp business suits. She caught my eye and immediately excused herself, hurrying over to me.
“Catherine, hi.”
She kept her voice low, her smile bright and fake.
“Listen, the caterers were a bit short-staffed. Do you mind just tossing those plates in the dishwasher? It would be a huge help.”
She was treating me like the hired help in my own kitchen.
I looked at the mountain of dishes. Then I looked at Sarah.
“No,” I replied calmly.
Her fake smile faltered.
“Excuse me?”
“I don’t mind a lot of things, Sarah, but I am not washing your dishes.”
I kept my tone conversational, pleasant even.
“Enjoy your party.”
I walked past her, retrieved my coat from the hallway closet, and walked out the front door.
I drove to a quiet diner a few towns over, ordered a slice of cherry pie, and read a book for 3 hours.
My phone buzzed around 6:00 p.m., a text from David.
“Mom. My debit card declined at the liquor store. Did you do something to the account? We need more wine for Sarah’s boss.”
I read the message, took a sip of my coffee, and put the phone back in my purse without replying.
When I finally returned home at 8:00, the party was winding down. The house was quiet.
I walked up to the front door and typed in the code David had given me on the first day.
1 984.
Beep. Red light.
I tried again.
Beep. Red light.
I stood in the freezing cold.
They had changed the code.