electronic device. The kids filed outside, and Libby slid the glass door closed. “That ought to keep them busy for a while. Gabe and Dad can deal with them.”
Debbie frowned. “Sorry. Usually I love having them around, but I have a bit of a headache today.”
“No problem,” Libby said breezily. “They were driving me nuts too.” She surveyed the kitchen. “Okay. I need someone to slice the tomatoes and onions, someone to wash the lettuce, and someone to set the table.”
“I’ll do the lettuce,” Sam said.
“No. I’ll do that,” Libby said. “I already have the colander out. How about you set the table instead.”
“Sure.” Sam wasn’t sure why her older sister had even given them an option if she already had plans for what each person should do, but it wasn’t worth it to argue with her. Sam got the silverware out, then started setting the table with the plates her mother had already brought out.
Libby came up beside her and switched the knife from the left of the plate to the right. “You put them on the wrong side.”
Sam eyed her sister. “Really? Does it matter? This isn’t a catering event.”
Libby stuck her hands on her hips. “It matters.” She pivoted and returned to the kitchen.
Sam took a satisfying moment to glare at Libby’s back, then reluctantly swapped the placement of the silverware she’d already laid out. Being the baby of the family, sometimes her sisters and parents still treated her like a little kid.
“Okay, I’m done,” she announced. “Is there anything else that you trust me to help with?” Her tone was snarky, but she didn’t really care.
Debbie looked up from the stack of onions she was slicing. “I’m about done here. Let me get these on a platter and then I need to get some things out of the refrigerator in the garage. Would you mind helping me with that?”
“Sure.” Sam walked over to the sliding glass door and peered into the backyard. The kids had settled down and the three oldest were tossing a football with Libby’s husband while Kaya and her grandfather threw a softball back and forth.
“Okay, I’m ready,” Debbie announced from behind Sam. They walked out to the garage together and Debbie opened the refrigerator, which was packed with hamburger buns, jars of pickles, and several bottles of ketchup, mustard, and mayonnaise. Debbie looked at Sam sheepishly and handed her three plastic bags full of hamburger buns. “There was a sale at the grocery store, so I stocked up a bit. You never know how much people will eat at these dinners.”
Sam laughed. “Or you just can’t resist a good sale.” Her mom was well known for her bargain shopping.
Debbie’s face darkened. “I don’t get much time for grocery shopping anymore. Or, for that matter, much of anything besides the business.” She ducked her head into the refrigerator and rooted around for something in the back.
When Debbie found what she was looking for and emerged from the fridge again, Sam asked, “Is that what’s been bothering you? You seem a little, um, upset.”
Debbie put bottles and jars of condiments on top of the big chest freezer next to the fridge, then leaned against it and stared at the floor. When she looked up, tears shimmered in her eyes. “I’m a little overwhelmed with the catering business. I’d just gotten used to having time for myself before we bid on all of these new jobs. Libby wants us to expand the business and I don’t want to let her down, but I can’t even enjoy having the kids around when they’re here because I’m so on edge about everything.”
Sam set the hamburger buns down on the freezer and hugged her mom. “I’m sure she doesn’t want you to be unhappy though. Can you tell her you don’t want to take on so many events?”
Debbie shook her head. “No. She needs the work.”
Sam wasn’t sure what Debbie was referring to, but this didn’t seem like the time to pry into Libby’s life. “What if I helped with the business again? I have some time before school starts.” School was scheduled to start in two weeks, and there was very little chance of her getting another job as a PE teacher before then, but she was still holding on to that small bit of hope. “Maybe you could spend some time out of the house doing things for you. Didn’t you have that group of friends that knitted hats for chemo patients?”
Debbie nodded. “Yeah. But I