A Friendly Family Cookout

I find Kelly wandering around the freezer section in the grocery store. My heart lightens when I see her standing there, craning her butt out as she tries to read something on the bottom shelf. Despite the Company's manipulations, I cannot deny that I am thankful for the turn in my life. I don't know where it will go, but the time I have shared with my family has been nothing short of magical. But it is becoming increasingly hard to balance my love for them and that plan I must execute. How can I justify spending a night at a football game, or working on my project with Ashley, when I know the Company is in the background, watching me from the shadows? I sigh, shaking the thought away.

I tip-toe over to Kelly, admiring her plump rear in the high-waist denim shorts she wears. She doesn't sense me until it's too late. I smack her ass with my left hand, saying "What's up!" in a higher pitched voice. Kelly bounces into the air, shrieking, and jumps away from me. Red-faced, she turns back to me with a scowl.

"Dom, that isn't funny!" Her anger isn't real, though, and she soon breaks into a soft smile. "I kind of liked it though."

I roll my eyes. "Of course you did, you deviant. Let's grab the beer and get out of here."

True to my request, Kelly asks me no questions about what I was doing. We grab the beer and return home. I am careful to grab my phone from the side-pocket of my driver door before getting out, returning it to my pocket.

By the time we return, Aunt Esmere and Colette have made their way over. I find Esmere in the kitchen with Mom, helping to pull a pan out of the oven. Her dark hair is tied in a high ponytail with a tan scrunchie that matches the simple tan and cream summer dress she wears. The plain dress hangs loosely from her lithe frame, the spaghetti straps seeming barely taut against her skin.

Colette appears in the stairwell, wearing her usual classic rock t-shirt and a pair of low-rise denim blue jean shorts. "Hey Colette," I say, smiling. Her long auburn hair hangs loosely down her shoulders, partially concealing her chest.

"Hey," she answers, in her high-pitched voice. Kelly and her fist-bump, and my cousin goes to follow Kelly into the kitchen. I tap her forearm for a moment, stopping her.

"Hey, do you think you can help me with something after the cookout? At your place."

She gives me a confused look but ultimately agrees, and I follow her into the kitchen with the rest of our family, then past and out into the backyard.

The sun hangs high overhead, casting a gentle warmth that seeps into me as I step out onto the patio. The midday light filters through the few trees we have on the very edge of the yard, dappling the grass in patterns that shift with the breeze. I catch the scent of sizzling steak wafting from the kitchen window, the air rich with the earthy smell of baked potatoes and the faint tang of salt from the fries.

I hear the clatter of dishes from inside. Mom’s still busy in the kitchen, pulling trays out of the oven, while Aunt Esmere helps arrange the food. I glance over at the lawn, where Ashley is setting up folding chairs and a table.

The door creaks as Colette steps out from the house, her auburn hair catching the sunlight as she walks over to Ashley to help.

I lean against the railing, the beer cold in my hand, and watch them set up, the rhythm of their actions simple, comfortable. Ashley flashes me a smile from across the yard, her chestnut curly hair bouncing as she laughs at something Colette says. The sight stirs something in my chest, a warmth that tries to rise above the undercurrent of tension lurking beneath the surface.

I take a slow sip, the bitterness of the beer grounding me for a moment. But even as I soak in the scene—the steady pulse of my family, their lives rolling on undisturbed—there’s that gnawing thought in the back of my mind, an ever-present weight I can’t shake. The Company. What they want. What they’re waiting for me to do.

The patio door swings open again, and Mom steps out, carrying a tray of food, her face glowing with the pride she always has when she cooks for us. Aunt Esmere follows, holding a bowl of fries in one hand and a tray of perfectly charred steaks in the other, a casual grace to her movements.

“Steaks are done!” Mom announces, setting the tray down on the table, her voice warm and full of life. Her happiness is infectious, and I find my thoughts calming as I watch her.

The sound of chairs scraping against the patio breaks the quiet hum of the afternoon as everyone gathers around the table. Kelly sits next to me, close enough that I can feel the heat of her body as she leans in to reach for a napkin. Colette plops down across from us, her legs folded beneath her as she tears into a baked potato with her fork, her expression a picture of casual enjoyment. Ashley sits on my other side, while Mom and Aunt Esmere take the end of the table.

I settle into my chair, the weight of the beer still cool in my palm. The conversations bubble up around me, easy, unforced. Ashley talks about our latest project, her words quick and excited. Kelly teases her gently, and Ashley shoots back with a smirk.

Colette rolls her eyes at them but grins, her attention flitting from her plate to the back-and-forth between the two. “You know, sleep’s overrated,” she chimes in, poking at her fries with deliberate nonchalance. “You can do so much more with a few extra hours.”

The clink of forks on plates fills the gaps of quiet. The meat is tender, each bite bursting with that familiar, seared richness. The fries are crispy, the baked potatoes buttery and soft, a perfect comfort against the thoughts still scratching at the back of my mind. I chew slowly, savoring each bite.

I glance at Aunt Esmere, who sits across from me at the end of the table, sipping on a lemonade. Her eyes flick to me for a moment, soft and curious. “How're you feeling today, Dom?”

I nod, forcing a casual smile. “I'm alright. Just thinking about some things.”

“Anything I can help with?” she asks, her brow arching.

“No, no,” I murmur. Her concern is gentle but doesn’t push. Perhaps my rebuke last night was enough.

Colette elbows Ashley as she polishes off the last of her steak. “Alright, I’ve got an idea to work off all this food. Let’s play a game.”

Ashley groans. “Please tell me you don’t mean charades.”

“Of course I do,” Colette says with a grin, already standing to clear the plates. “It’s tradition.”

Kelly glances at me with an exaggerated eye-roll, her lips curling in a small smile. “You know that I’m terrible at charades. Can't we play something else?”

“Too late,” Colette announces, her voice taking on a singsong quality. “You’re all in.”

Mom chuckles as she starts gathering the plates. “I don’t know if I have the energy for this.”

“You just cooked for an army,” I say, standing to help with the dishes.

“No, Dear, sit,” Mom replies, waving me off with a fond smile. “Go play. I can handle this.”

Before long, we’re all in the living room, gathered in a circle, each of us holding slips of paper with hastily written prompts. The energy has shifted, lighter, the game a familiar ritual they've done a hundred times before in lighter days, although I've rarely been included. Colette stands in the middle, her body already moving in exaggerated motions as she tries to mime “ballerina.”

Kelly snorts, unable to hold back a laugh. “I think that’s supposed to be a chicken, not a ballerina.”

“Hey!” Colette waves her hands dramatically. “You try this!”

Ashley guesses correctly, and Colette throws her arms up in triumph, a smug grin plastered across her face as she takes her seat.

As the game moves on, the tension in my chest eases, just a little. The heat of the afternoon, the food still settling in our stomachs, and the rhythm of the game lulls me into a strange calm. I catch Kelly’s eye across the room as she fumbles through her turn, trying to act out “rocket ship,” her arms flailing in slow motion. The corners of her mouth lift, and for a moment, it feels like there's no weight at all.

But the moment passes quickly. I sit back in my chair, the buzz of laughter and chatter fading into the background as my mind drifts again. I look at my family, at Colette arguing playfully with Ashley over the last round, at Mom wiping down the counters with a soft smile on her face, and for a second, the weight of what’s to come feels too heavy.

I take another sip of beer, the coldness spreading through me. For now, I let the afternoon stretch a little longer, wrapping myself in the simplicity of this moment, surrounded by the people who make everything feel… normal. Even when I know it isn't.

I check my phone for the first time in a while. "Kelly?" I ask, interrupting the game. "Don't you need to go get ready?"

She looks at me in confusion, then alarm. "Eek! What time is it?"

"Almost four."

She sprints upstairs to get ready for the final cheerleading game of her career.

I look at Colette, smiling. "I guess the game is over? I have to drive her. I don't think I'll have time to come by today. Tomorrow?"

"Okay," she says, smiling. I leave her with Ashley and Esmere as I follow Kelly upstairs to get ready.