Chapter 103

Yet I’mthe oddball.

“It’s that time of day. Do you two want to share my surprise martini?” Sarajane calls outside.

“What’s in a surprise martini?”

“It’s not what’s in it, it’s how it shows up. I shake one up midday and pop it in the fridge. I’ll open it up after five P.M., never before, and go, ‘Oh! What have we here? Who made me a martini?’ Sometimes I’d split it with your mother.”

Olivia doesn’t drink, but she says sure, and our aunt divides the gin martini by three, which, in another surprise, is also excellent. Sarajane then insists on barbecuing. I wonder, will the meal be served backward and start with dessert? How far does she carry this?

I watch her set the table, laboring with an iron over the creased damask tablecloth. I show her and Olivia how, after it’s laundered, to roll it to avoid folds. I promise to have Isaac send them both dowel hangers if they would prefer to store them that way instead.

To complement the surprise martini, S.J. serves a charred mystery meat.