Chapter 8
“We’re thinking of doing a barbecue,’’ Rye said. ‘‘Like last year. Maybe a pool party.”
“It’s a lot of work for Angie, no?” their mother said reproachfully.
Liam caught a shadow moving across his brother’s face. Ingrid was always on Rye’s case about something or another. He was so much like their father; that was the problem.
“Well,” Rye replied, avoiding his mother’s pressing stare. “You know Angie. She can’t sit still. She gets like that in the last month. Besides, it’s all gonna be outside and I’ll do the cooking. It’s no big deal.” He turned to Liam. “You guys are coming, right?”
Of coursethey were. They’d never missed their nephews’ birthdays.
Rye poked Liam in the ribs. “Hey, why don’t you invite Netty? Angie would love that.”
Ingrid cocked her head. “Who’s Netty?”
“Yeah Liam?” Will chimed in, his eyes narrowing. ‘‘Who’s Netty?”