“Eat later,” my dad grumbles. Then he picks up his lawn-care tools and goes over to fix the hunk of grass that was torn out.
The new arrivals, flanked by the older Svenssons, follow the pack to the food.
“We have placards with the names and ingredients of the dishes,” Linton announces as the Svenssons head into the great room.
“Don’t bother.” Salinger is disgusted. “They’re like locusts—they eat anything.”
I nod. “And now I see why you built such a large house.” It’s a little overwhelming to have such a huge family in the small space, squabbling over food and jostling each other.
“I’ll say,” Aaron adds, “though I think you didn’t make it big enough, especially once all your siblings have kids.” He starts rattling off numbers. “Not to mention you’re hampered because none of you can sit outside. With all that blond hair, you’ll burn up in the sun.”
“It’s Seattle. They can all sit in the rain.” Salinger is stubborn.
“No one can be on that grass when it’s wet.” My dad pokes his head in from the porch. “Definitely consider doing a kill-off and reseed.”
“Come get something to eat.” My mother tries to pull him inside. “Stop messing with Salinger’s lawn.”
My father regards the Svensson clan apprehensively.
Two of Salinger’s adult brothers are trying to break up a fight between several little blond boys.
A little blond girl, one of Salinger’s nieces, hauls back and throws a glob of potato salad at her sister. “Food fight!”
“Absolutely not!” Salinger and several of his brothers bellow at once.
The kids are herded outdoors.
“See?” Salinger hisses at me. “This was a terrible idea. I told you—it’s insanity.”
“Just breathe.” His brother Crawford grins, pushing him back outside. “Look at your lawn. Smell the ocean air. Don’t think about the very expensive window that now has a chair through it.”
“How—”
“I really just want to commend you on what a great Fourth of July party this is,” a little kid tells Salinger, his plate piled high with hamburgers.
Salinger swipes one. “You’re such a suck-up, Davy,” he says affectionately.
“Stealing food from your little brother.” I elbow him.
Salinger flicks Davy’s ear lightly and takes a bite of the burger. Davy kicks his foot.
“Are you sure you want to marry this guy?” Davy whispers to me behind his hand. “I have a tree house that’s pretty nice. I could make you a better offer.”
Crawford reaches over Davy’s shoulder and takes another burger from his plate.
“Hey!” Davy tries to attack Crawford, who just plants a hand on the little boy’s head while the kid swings ineffectively.
Salinger’s brother grins at me then takes a big bite of the burger. “You really can’t take any of them anywhere.” He jerks his head.
“Get off my grass,” Salinger yells at more of his brothers. Several of them give him the finger and flop down on the lawn.
Another pack crowds around Amy and Lauren, who are feeding Pepper bites of broccoli.
“They have no shame,” Salinger says.
“I could really say the same.” I take the burger from him.
“You want another drink?” Jess asks me, coming up the stairs to the porch. “I need another vodka tonic.”
