“Because she's trying to turn a question about a document into a fight.”
Michael considered.
Then smiled faintly.
“That's why I married a teacher.”
Natalie laughed.
“Because I read the instructions?”
“Because you understand unreasonable people.”
She raised one eyebrow.
“I teach nine-year-olds, Michael.”
He grinned.
“Exactly.”
She swatted his arm with a dish towel.
For a moment, the disagreement felt almost funny.
But the following morning, Michael discovered that Evelyn had already begun telling neighbors a different story.
According to Mrs. Gable across the street, Evelyn claimed Michael planned to install a commercial outdoor kitchen without approval.
Another neighbor said he'd heard the cookout might involve fireworks.
Someone else believed Michael intended to sell alcohol.
None of it was true.
Michael began receiving cautious messages.
Is the party still happening?
I heard there's a fire-safety problem.
Should we bring the kids?
He replied calmly.
The gathering would use a standard outdoor grill.
There would be no fireworks.
No commercial cooking operation.
And no activity beyond the kind of barbecue residents hosted throughout the summer.
Several neighbors apologized for believing the rumors.
Others simply confirmed they would attend.
Then Michael received a call from his father.
Thomas Lawson's voice was rough with age and amusement.
“Son, apparently you're trying to burn down the neighborhood.”
Michael laughed.
“That's what they're saying?”
“Your mother would've been disappointed.”
Michael smiled.
“She would've brought the potato salad anyway.”
Thomas laughed.
“Absolutely.”
Then his tone became serious.
“Everything actually safe with the grill?”
Michael nodded, even though his father couldn't see him.
“Yes. Equipment's maintained, cooking area's clear, and I've got the proper supplies.”
“Good.”
A pause.
Then Thomas added.
“And don't let some woman with a clipboard convince you that safety is the same thing as control.”
Michael smiled.
“Sounds like advice from a firefighter.”
“Retired firefighter.”
“Still counts.”
Thomas chuckled.
Then promised to arrive before noon.
It was the last pleasant conversation Michael had about the barbecue before Evelyn entered his backyard with a fire extinguisher.
On Saturday morning, Michael woke at six.
The house was quiet.
Natalie and Sophie were still asleep.
He went downstairs, made coffee, and opened the back door.
The lawn was damp with morning dew.
The sky was clear.
And a faint breeze moved through the oak trees.
He loved mornings like that.
For a moment, he stood on the deck remembering family cookouts from his childhood.
His father leaning over a smoker.
His mother arranging plates.
Neighbors arriving with folding chairs.
And the smell of barbecue spreading through the yard long before anyone actually sat down to eat.
Michael smiled.
Then began preparing.
He wiped the tables.
Checked the grill.
Moved the folding chairs into position.