BC

"It's just not fair." I say to Samantha over dinner.

"I wanted to meet at my house and order the Polynesian." She says.

"I had perfectly good chilli to defrost." I add.

Miranda sighed and once again explained that she enjoys cooking, and she had her dog to contend with. "I can't leave the dog all day, then all night."

"You guys can do it. It'll just have to be on the weekend." Miranda further explains.

"Two weekends ago we were supposed to go out and we had to come here." I mumble.

Miranda sighs. Samantha giggles.

In an attempt to change the subject, I remind them "The weather is getting nicer and I have the grill!"

Without missing a beat, and with a flat and slow sarcastic tone, Miranda says, "Right. . .the grill."

Miranda was over my house for one of my summer barbies and left overly concerned at how I lit the grill. She did not approve of my 'Clear the area, turn the gas on, stand back four feet and start tossing lit matches at my grill' procedure. I did not know there was a hole on the side of the grill for lighting purposes, nor did I know that the button to ignite the grill had a battery that probably needed to be changed.

"Why don't we read about you in the paper?" Samantha asked.

The dinner was great, and Miranda was doing dishes when she noticed her dog standing at the back door, staring at it. "One minute Poochy, I will let you out when I'm done." Samantha and I just looked at one another "I'll do it!" I say and volunteer to let the dog out. Miranda explains that because of the weather you have to stand there and watch her so she comes right back in and not be left outside in the rain. "Okay." I say, but I'm thinking "Of course!" So as I'm watching the dog do her business, I notice that in Miranda's large back yard, there's a long rectangular space, filled with obviously new dirt, edged with dark gated borders, complete with angels and other spiritual yard ornaments at one end.

The dog was done, I let her in, everyone was back at the table when I said to Miranda, "You know I loved your mother, and I believe she's in a better place, bless her soul. . .but did you bury her in the back yard?"

"What?" Samantha jumped up to look outside.

"I know. Everyone is saying that." Miranda says.

"Maye it's something you need to talk about. Grieving. Are you okay?"

"It's just a garden space." She explains.

Then I think to myself. Maybe there's a another reason why we always have to come to Miranda's and she always has to cook.