I didn’t think about it again.
Lunch disappeared in less than 30 minutes, and every serving dish came back scraped clean.
I barely had time to sit before someone held out an empty pitcher.
“Ivy, could we get more lemonade?”
Another voice followed.
“Can we have more ice?”
“Where are the extra napkins?”
I stood up before I’d even swallowed my second bite.
“You okay?” Eli asked.
“I’m fine.”
I’d learned that telling him otherwise usually earned me sympathy instead of help.
After lunch, everyone migrated back to the living room.
The game resumed.
The cheering started.
The dishes stayed behind.
Guess who followed them?
I filled the sink with hot water and stared at what looked like enough cookware to feed a small army.
Because it had.
The sounds from the living room drifted into the kitchen.
