"So, you must be excited then."

I look up from the blackened burger to find Dave's sister Jamie leaning against the countertop. She props an elbow on the stone to make room for her cigarette, the wisps of smoke filling her nose.

"I am, thank you," I say automatically. The burden of the wasted hamburger suddenly gets heavier, and I slide it quickly into the nearby trash can.

"He's still bragging about it, you know. Leave it to Dave to turn any day into a self-congratulatory dinner," she chuckles, but with nostalgia or something else I'm not sure. "Though, with all the crap that's going on now-a-days, it must be nice to have some stability."

I nod a few times: "It is. I've always wanted to travel. And this will give me more time to work on hobbies." My voice rises breathlessly at the end of each sentence, and I know it must sound like more of a reassurance than a truth.

Jamie takes a deep drag, slow and calculating. "Hmm."

It's an interrogation I deduce, eyes firmly on me through the narrow glasses that sit on her nose. "Well, I should probably get back out there. Dave says he bought fireworks. In no doubt to celebrate his extraordinary success."

The door swings with a burst of hot summer air. I realize I should follow behind her, a smile plastered across my face like the woman I've known myself to be. Instead I reach for the teapot, the old one, rusted and burning red paint on the handle, and spark the burner.