I want to tell him it’s impossible, our largest event drew what, 30, 40, do we even know 100 students, but something stops me
Oh. Oh, right.
It was me.
What on earth had I been thinking? To offer to host a mega barbeque three days — three days — after moving in?
“How’s it going?” Akiva comes in through the back door. “Wanna pass me the trays of chicken?”
How is he so calm?
I stand in the middle of the kitchen and run frantically through the list: Make salad dressing, set out paper goods, make sure the kids are still occupied with coloring books and not destroying anything, put on sheitel….
I step outside. Hopefully the weather will hold. Our backup plan is to eat in the dining room, but I have no interest in a gaggle of college students traipsing through the kitchen and partying in the only clean area in the whole house.
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