As I barreled past the gigantic evergreen and around the corner, I turned back to see how far everyone was behind me. We were racing back home after playing at the park; Kim had given up and stopped running a block back, while my cousins caught up and passed me. Laughing, I slowed to a walk and shouted at Kim to catch up. I paused to look at the flowers when I reached the blue house. There were so many flowers I only recognized from Nagymama and Nagypapa’s garden, many that they had brought from Hungary. The colourful array spilled over the left back corner of the front yard over to the front door, and more flowers were packed into two long, raised garden boxes on the edge bordering the neighbours’ yard. The lawn was lush and manicured, the whole yard in meticulous condition. I watched two lazy bumblebees drift between blossoms as Kim finally caught up to me.
We hurried into the backyard, our cheeks flushed from running. Dad shouted at us to close the gate behind us; he was standing by the little apple tree in the middle of the yard with my uncles, close to Nagypapa, who was throwing more logs into the big, old, wood-fire barbeque. Behind them, Nicole carried baby Renata through the sprawling vegetable garden, carefully stepping on the long one-by-four planks to avoid disturbing the plants. The veggie garden took up the back third of the backyard, with rows of tomatoes, peas, carrots, potatoes, turnips, cucumbers, and more. Crushed white egg shells, chunks of banana peels, and other compost were sprinkled all around the plants as fertilizer. Packed into the far left and right sides of the yard were more shrubs and colourful flowers I couldn’t name, and still more flowers climbed up trellises against the back wall of the house.
Auntie Leslie stepped left out the back door, Tyke close to her heels, carrying the big yellow bowl full of macaroni salad and setting it on “the buffet table” next to the buns, cheese, fruits and veggies, and uborkasalata. I squished in with my sister and cousins at the picnic table to the right of the door, taking respite in the shade cast from the umbrella at the table next to us where the older cousins sat. Travis was finishing up some hus leves and told us there was some warmed up inside if we wanted any before the burgers. Before we could go get any, Nagymama and the other aunties came out from inside with the last of the table settings.
Nagymama yelled over to Nagypapa in Hungarian, and he walked to the edge of the concrete patio. He smiled, raising his arms and turning from those in the yard to us at the tables to get our attention, and said, “Okay, everybody, okay. Thank you for coming for my birthday. Okay, thank you, everybody. Okay… Let’s eat!”