My world righted just a bit, even if not completely. I watched my father and Mr. Swanson for another minute. Mr. Swanson was speaking, and my father was rubbing his forehead as though he was torn about whatever Mr. Swanson was saying to him. A company had wanted that land. What was going to happen to it now? I started to open my mouth to ask more questions when Mr. Swanson gave my father a companionable pat on the shoulder, their conversation obviously ending as they each turned away. I watched as Emily stood, marching stoically toward her father, about ready to ruin his day with her confession about his damaged car.

“Em,” her father said, smiling and gesturing her over as he glanced at my mom. “You promised to sing for us next time Mariana had her guitar out.”

My mom smiled, taking a few steps to where her guitar rested against an Adirondack chair. “I’m ready if you are. Something simple,” she told Emily on a laugh. “I’m still practicing.” My mom had been taking guitar lessons once a week for the past six months just for fun—it’s been on my bucket list forever, she’d told my dad—and would sometimes strum a few chords around the bonfire, but she was still a beginner. Emily was better on the guitar, having played longer, but I knew Emily preferred to sing, and was happy to let my mom accompany her.

Emily hesitated, clearly torn between the confession she’d mustered up the nerve to deliver, and accepting the delay of a performance. She shot her dad one final, indecisive look, but then turned toward my mom, who was hooking the strap on her guitar and moving to the elevated portion of the patio.

Emily’s parents, my father, and a few of the men who worked with us, along with their wives, moved closer, some taking seats on the slew of Adirondack chairs, some sitting on the low stone wall surrounding the patio. Emily and my mom murmured a few words, obviously choosing which song to play.

I stepped away from the adults, leaning against the pergola that covered the outdoor dining set. Hot pink bougainvillea twisted around the pillars and dripped through the slats, providing shade when the eating area was in use. The sun had set, stars blinking in the navy sky, but the temperature was still in the nineties at least, and the coolness under the overhang welcomed me.