“How many people are you expecting tonight?” Emma asked as she set out biodegradable plates, napkins and utensils on one of three tables set out for food.
Rosie held up her hands. “Maybe two hundred. It’s hard to know for sure, especially in the summer. People come and go.”
Emma blinked. “Two hundred people. And you all do this several times a year?”
“Yes. Everyone enjoys them.”
“Where do you have them in bad weather?”
“We always schedule out a year in advance and reserve the community center in town as a backup.”
“Smart.”
“It’s not as formal as it may seem. We try not to make a big deal about it. Everyone brings potluck salads and desserts and we all donate a few dollars for the main dish, which is usually pretty basic in the summer. Grilled brats, burgers, chicken breasts. Don’t worry, we always have a few meatless options too. We have plenty of vegetarians in the neighborhood.”
“Good to know.”
“Looks like somebody’s here early,” Sylvia called.
Rosie turned in time to see a small late-model luxury convertible heading up her driveway.
“The party’s not supposed to start for an hour. Are you expecting a friend to help you set up?” Emma asked.
Rosie shook her head. “No. That’s just Pam. She’s dropping off a few papers for me to sign for one of our projects that needs an extension on the building loan.”
For some reason, Emma’s mouth drew into a tight line. Her eyes suddenly seemed as hard as agates as she watched Pam walk toward them.
Pam, as usual, was stylishly dressed, with perfect makeup and not a hair out of place. Rosie always felt a bit frumpy next to her. Still, she was beyond grateful for Pam’s dedication to the company.
“I need to go in and work on my salad,” Emma said, her voice suddenly flat. “Is Olive okay out here?”
Rosie gave an airy wave. “Totally fine. Your grandma and I will keep an eye on her.”
Emma hurried into the house without even taking time to say hello to Pam, whom she had known most of her life.
Rosie frowned after her but didn’t have time to do more than wonder at her strange behavior before Pam reached her.
“Your yard looks fantastic, as always,” Pam said, looking around with admiration at the flower beds and the winding gravel paths that led to Sylvia’s charming little cottage, the chicken coop, the gardening shed. “I honestly have no idea how you do it. You make me sorry I only have a boring old condo instead of all this gorgeous space.”
“I enjoy it.”
Rosie didn’t bother telling Pam that working in the yardwas therapy of sorts for her, a way to unwind after long hours at work.
“And I always forget what a fabulous view you have from here.”
Rosie looked out at the ocean she could see beyond her yard. She never tired of watching the clouds roll in or the sun setting on the waves.
“Are you staying for the barbecue?” Rosie asked.
“Not tonight, sorry. Tony and I are heading into Lincoln City for a concert at one of the casinos.”
She named a group that Rosie remembered as being popular when she was younger. “Oh, are they still together?”
“Reunion tour, apparently. It should be fun. I went to see them when I was in high school. I think I got high just from the secondhand pot smoke. Now I’m sure the audience will smell like arthritis medicine and heart disease.”
Rosie laughed. “No doubt.”
Pam held out a manila envelope. “I only need two signatures and three initials. I’ve put stickies on the spots for you.”
