I smiled sadly.
"Yeah. He would've."
By the following summer, our backyard looked beautiful again.
The grass was green.
The raised garden bed was overflowing with tomatoes and herbs.
The wooden fence had been repaired.
And the oak tree cast a wide patch of shade across the patio.
Leah stood beside the kitchen counter preparing a fresh bowl of salad.
Jasmine, now twelve, was arranging blue ceramic plates beside red plastic cups.
For a moment, the scene felt almost exactly like the afternoon of the interrupted cookout.
I stood in the doorway watching them.
Leah looked up.
"You're staring."
I smiled.
"Just appreciating the view."
She laughed.
"Then come help."
I walked outside.
The grill was ready.
Fresh ingredients were arranged on a clean preparation table.
And this time, guests were already arriving.
Eleanor came first.
She wore a soft lavender blouse and carried a large pitcher of homemade lemonade.
When Leah saw her, she smiled broadly.
"You're early!"
Eleanor laughed.
"Accountants are rarely late."
Jasmine ran toward her.
"Mrs. Bell!"
The older woman opened her arms.
Jasmine embraced her.
For several seconds, Eleanor held the girl tightly.
Then she looked toward me.
Her eyes filled.
I smiled.
"Welcome back."
She nodded.
"It's good to be here."
More guests arrived.
The neighbors whose basements had flooded.
The young mother who'd asked about drainage repairs.
The couple who helped organize the independent audit.
And several families who'd remained friends through the difficult year.
Some of them brought food.
Others carried drinks.
Children ran through the yard.
Someone turned on music.
And slowly, our backyard filled with laughter.
Leah prepared Eleanor's meal separately again.
Grilled chicken.
Plain vegetables.
And the food that suited her dietary needs.
She placed it on a white ceramic plate.
For a moment, I stopped moving.
The sight brought back the memory of Vivian standing over the table.
The transparent container.
The reserved card.
And the powder falling onto the food.
Eleanor noticed my expression.
She looked toward the plate.
Then at me.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Finally, she smiled gently.
"Caleb?"
I looked up.
She reached for my hand.
"That's just my dinner."
For a moment, my throat tightened.
Then I laughed softly.
"I know."
She squeezed my hand.
"And I'm looking forward to eating it."
Leah approached.
Her eyes were wet.
Eleanor smiled at both of us.
"We aren't going to let that woman take every good memory away from this table."
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
Then I nodded.
"You're right."