an uneasy stillness.
I was washing dishes when the pounding started.
Half the cake remained in the refrigerator.
I’d been humming quietly, enjoying a rare moment of peace.
Then came three loud knocks.
I dried my hands and glanced outside.
Almost laughing.
They’d actually come.
My parents stood on the porch wearing matching windbreakers, visibly furious.
My sister waited behind them with her arms folded.
I opened the door.
But didn’t invite anyone inside.
“You need to fix this.”
Dad skipped every greeting.
Mom demanded, “Do you have any idea
