They Planned A Party In My Home Without Me Chapter 02

They Planned A Party In My Home Without Me Chapter 02

At seven the next morning, someone knocked on my door.

Ryan stood on the other side.

Two plastic bins stuffed with greasy dishes sat at his feet.

Every pot and dish they’d taken the night before was back. Not a single one was missing.

I opened the door but didn’t let him in.

Ryan yawned.

“Good. You’re up.”

“Ethan said you didn’t have anything planned today, so wash these. We’re grilling on the rooftop tonight, and we’ll need them.”

I looked at the plates streaked with grease.

“Whoever used them can wash them.”

“Come on.”

Ryan sounded completely exasperated.

“We spent half the night calming Mia down. Her eyes were swollen from crying, and you slept comfortably behind your closed door.”

“Why was she crying?”

“Because you scared her.”

I almost laughed.

They’d sat in my apartment, eaten my food, and tried to drive me away from my own table.

And somehow Mia was the one who’d been hurt.

Ryan shoved the bins against the wall beside my door.

“They’re at your door now. I’ve got somewhere to be.”

“Where?”

“I’m taking Mia to buy food for the cookout.”

He answered as if it were obvious.

“She doesn’t know how to pick out meat. She’ll get ripped off if she goes alone.”

I pushed the bins back toward his feet.

“Perfect. Take them home and let her learn how to wash dishes.”

Ryan hadn’t expected me to refuse. His face turned ugly.

“Lena Hart, this little act isn’t going to work on us.”

“We’ve known you for more than twenty years. Everyone knows what you’re like. You talk tough, but in a couple of days you’ll be over it.”

I looked at him.

“So that’s why you think it doesn’t matter how you treat me?”

His mouth opened, but no words came out.

I had already shut the door.

Ten minutes later, Ethan called.

“Do you really have to make things this hostile?”

“Ryan brought those over first thing in the morning, and you wouldn’t even let him inside. Don’t be so ungrateful.”

“Those aren’t gifts. They’re the dishes you used and didn’t wash.”

Ethan paused.

“They’re just a few dishes. Is washing them really going to kill you?”

“And where are the grill and picnic blankets? Tyler’s coming by to pick them up.”

I walked into the storage room.

It held a complete set of camping gear.

I had bought the tent. I had bought the grill. I’d even hauled home a folding chair for each of them from a sale.

The month before, I’d suggested going camping over Independence Day weekend. All three of them had said they were busy.

Ethan said he had to work overtime.

Ryan said he wanted to sleep through the holiday.

Tyler had been even more direct. He said camping was just paying money to get eaten alive by mosquitoes.

It turned out they weren’t busy.

They’d just suddenly found time once Mia suggested it.

“No.”

I said it flatly.

Ethan sounded as if he hadn’t heard me.

“What?”

“They’re mine. I’m not lending them out.”

“They’re just sitting there collecting dust. Mia wants to see the fireworks, and we’re only using them for one night.”

“If she wants to see fireworks, buy her the gear.”

Ethan finally ran out of patience.

“Lena, are you done?”

“Yesterday was one missed dinner. You’ve been making snide comments all night and all morning. You’d think we’d done something unforgivable to you.”

“Mia’s parents aren’t nearby. What’s wrong with taking a little better care of her?”

I’d heard that line too many times.

Mia was afraid of the dark, so Ethan drove her home.

Mia had a sensitive stomach, so Ryan remembered every food she couldn’t eat.

Mia had a rough day at work, so Tyler could drive two hours just to sit with her.

When I had a high fever, the three of them pooled together a hundred dollars in takeout gift cards for me.

They said I was independent and would be fine after taking some medicine.

I wasn’t born self-sufficient.

I just always seemed to become less important when it was my turn.

I ended the call and photographed the camping gear before putting it on a resale app.

Less than half an hour later, someone from my apartment complex bought the grill.

People started asking about the tent, camping lantern, and folding chairs too.

By the time Tyler came over at noon, half the storage room was empty.

He stood in the doorway and stared at me in disbelief.

“You’d rather sell everything to strangers than lend it to us?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

I sealed the last shipping box.

“Because strangers pay.”

“You don’t.”

My phone chimed.

It was a message from my landlord.

[Your lease is up next month. Are you still renewing for another two years as planned?]

This apartment was close to Ethan’s office.

I’d spent three full years commuting ninety minutes every day, waiting for him to move in.

I typed two words in the reply box.

[Not renewing.]