Before the party
“Couldn’t you have said I had something else to do, Charlie?”
“What do you mean?”
“How about a dental appointment? Tell them I had to see Dr. Greenblatt.”
“But it’s a Sunday, Cheryl.”
“I guess your relatives don’t know Dr. Greenblatt.”

Another excuse
It was Unkle Leo’s 67th birthday. Charlie’s uncle, that is. The celebration was in his backyard with the above-ground pool. Cheryl switched from Dr. Greenblatt to her cousin Rayette.
“Rayette has terrible migraines. Just say I’m sorry I couldn’t make it, but I had to help her and her dog Fritz.”
“Fritz’s a Yorky, right?”
Sure, Yorkshire Terriers are associated with migraines, but Cheryl used that excuse before.

On the way
“You promise not to make any cracks about his hat?”
“I don’t like his red hat. Why does he have to wear it?”
“That’s just how he is. You’re not going to change him now. Just be glad Uncle Leo doesn’t roll your knuckles when he shakes hands.”
“How about his conspiracy theories?”
“Try not to say anything.”
“I’ll pretend I’m in the chair with the dentist.”

At the party
Charlie held a small, lukewarm pig-in-a-blanket by its toothpick. Cheryl sipped Pinot Grigio from her clear plastic glass. Charlie grabbed his uncle by the fingertips, the proper way to prevent a knuckle role.
“You remember Cheryl, Uncle Leo, don’t you?”
The center of attention wore dark glasses. He peered at Cheryl.
“How do you like my hat?” he asked. On top of the MAGA hat was attached a cardboard number 67 in red, white, and blue.
“It goes with the head. In a few years, you’ll be 69.”
“Come again?
“Cheryl said it’s a great hat, Uncle Leo.”

Going home
Cheryl looked out the side window, little noticing the trees, houses, and billboards. They headed south on 95, leaving Leo, Levittown, and the last few partygoers behind.
“Did you have to say that?” asked Charlie.
“You told me not to talk about his hat or politics. I didn’t hear anything about UFOs.”
The old man mentioned he’d seen some UFOs recently, the ‘real ones’, sausage-shaped, ringed with bright lights.
“My father was one of the first to see them. He’s the one who identified the shape that others have confirmed.” That was how Uncle Leo had explained it. “I bet you don’t believe me, do you, Cheryl?”
Charlie kept his head straight but glanced to the right. “Couldn’t you have left it at that?”
“I told him I believed him.”
Charlie had gone into the kitchen for more food. He missed the UFO conversation.
“When people don’t believe him, he gets upset.”
“Look, I agreed with him.”
“He was angry when I came back.”
“I said I believed him. I only asked why aliens would come all that way, all those trillions of miles, just to hover over Levittown and his dented above-ground pool?”