I stepped in closer.
“They don’t smell it, hand over the bottle.”
Diane backed up half a step and hid the bottle deeper.
Her red-and-white party bag hung off the chair back. The zipper wasn’t shut all the way. A corner of a firecracker box stuck out.
I saw the red logo.
Same as the paper all over the lawn.
I reached in and yanked the box out. Held it up over my shoulder.
“Whose is this?”
Diane’s eyes shrank.
She panicked. Just for a second. Then she screamed.
“She’s setting me up!”
Behind me, Tyler was crying so hard he was hiccuping. He pointed at the box.
“That’s Grandma’s.”
Diane whipped around.
“Tyler!”
I didn’t give her a chance to cover the kid’s mouth. I shoved the box up in her face.
“You just said I set you up. Your grandson says it’s yours. You want to say ‘set you up’ again — right to his face?”
