Chapter 13: Saturday

On Saturday afternoon, there were balloons tied to the mailbox at 14 Linden Street.

They were silver and gold, and the banner across the garage said HAPPY 18TH, KAYLA & BRETT.

Both new cars were parked on the lawn so the guests could have the driveway.

Esther stood beside me on the sidewalk in her church coat, with her purse on her arm.

"Do you want me to go first?" she said.

"No. You're my witness. You go second."

I had the deed in a folder under my arm, and the lawyer's notice in my coat pocket.

The key was in my right hand.

Through the front window I could see the living room, full to the walls.

Women held paper plates, and men stood in a circle by the fireplace.

I saw three people from the church committee, and the pastor's wife was at the center of the sofa.

I walked up the path I had walked ten thousand times.

The brass plate beside the door said BRAEBURN.

It was shining.

Gary had polished it, and Janet had not told him to stop.

I put my thumb on the letters for a second.

Then I put my mother's key in the lock.

It turned on the first try.

Janet had never changed the locks, because she had never thought she needed to.

The door swung in on the smell of ham and coffee and a hundred candles.

Nobody noticed me in the hall at first.

The coat rack was heaped with coats, and I hung mine on the last empty hook.

Then Esther came in behind me and shut the door, and the click carried.

The talking in the living room stopped one voice at a time.

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