The bonfire nowadays was confined to the copper fire pit at Louise’s house, but they’d manage to get the flames up high. He’d been cremated with his healing crystals still clenched in his hands. And Lewis, the son of Benjamin, the sisters’ cousin, would light the bonfire, once his father’s job. Come night, Jasper, Lily’s grandson, would play guitar. There’d be enough to drink, that was for sure, and maybe something to smoke thanks to the dispensaries in nearby Great Barrington. Louise’s son Charlie would man the grill.
Eleanor, pasta salad and lentils with sweet potatoes. Upstairs, the sisters prepared by putting on their dresses, while down in the yard everyone drank Mott’s apple juice and snacked on Ritz crackers squared with Cheddar.
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