“Is this some kind of joke, Annie?” she asked.

“Not at all,” I replied, pouring water into the first glass. “Please, help yourselves.”

Sarah slowly put her phone on the counter, though her eyes never left the screen.

“Where is the brisket?” Juliette demanded, her face flushing. “Where is the potato salad we always have?”

I set the pitcher down with a soft click against the granite.

“We’ve had to make some adjustments this year,” I said.

“Adjustments?” Juliette repeated the word like it was a foreign language.

“Yes,” I said, leaning against the counter. “Our household budget has been severely restricted.”

“Since when do you restrict the Fourth of July?” Juliette asked, her voice sharp.

“Since our expenses began outstripping our actual income,” I said.

I looked directly at Sarah, whose gaze finally drifted down to the crackers.

“We simply cannot afford to host the way we used to,” I added.

“This is ridiculous,” Juliette said, crossing her arms. “You and Dan make plenty of money.”

“We do,” I said. “But we also support a lot of extra weight.”