When Alyssa came by to drop off her items and she caught sight of some of the things I was letting go, I also sent Alyssa home with two boxes of free stuff she had to have. We had a good-natured fight over the fact I wouldn’t let her pay for any of it but she only gave in because she left three filled boxes that she intended to pick up on the big day and pay for, which she’d marked on the sides with a Sharpie, “Alyssa’s, touch and you’ll be hunted! Dig me?”

During this time, I let my children be.

* * * * *

Two days before the house sale, I texted the kids to remind them it was happening and again to invite them to come if they wanted.

* * * * *

They didn’t reply.

Chapter Three

Clean Palette

The evening before the house sale, I was in my kitchen, running on empty.

I was ready…mostly.

There were items all over the place with some stacked at the doors to put out in the front yard and on the deck. These items were arranged (and then rearranged, and in some cases re-rearranged) so they were displayed attractively. They all had price tags. There were signs directing folks to rooms with more stuff for sale.

And I was in the kitchen baking.

I’d found some cute plastic bags with happy designs on the sides at a craft store that I’d decided to put my snickerdoodles in and then tied them with big, bright extravagant bows. Same with my chocolate chip cookies. Also with peanut butter cookies with mini Reese’s cups shoved in. They were lying all over the countertop, on tiered plates (plates that were for sale) or on platters (also for sale).

They were all bagged, tagged and ready.

And I was currently working on my meringue-frosting-topped cupcakes with pastel flower sprinkles. Cupcakes that were delicious, but with that glossy dollop of white icing decorated with sprinkles, they were also kid magnets.

I’d sell out of those in fifteen minutes.

Guaranteed.

I’d made big vats of lemonade and iced tea I was going to put in my fancy crystal (for sale) and not-as-fancy-but-still-fancy glass (also for sale) drink dispensers. I had bottles of water chilling in the fridge in the garage with bags of ice in both my freezers that I was going to put into attractive buckets and also sell.

Now, it was eight o’clock and I’d been going nonstop since the day before—no, actually for the last week.

I’d dropped into bed the night before at midnight. But I needed to go to bed that night and I’d needed to do that two hours ago.

Instead, I was arranging glossy frosting blobs on cupcakes and I had a dozen more in the oven baking.

Those were the last ones.

Then I’d get a glass of wine, a shower and hit my bed.

If after that last dozen I had all that in me.