Page 11 of Never Kiss Your Neighbors

“Done?” She looks past us into the house, as if she’s looking for clues.

“We had a marshmallow battle with Nerf blasters and other stuff,” I explain. “Things got pretty wild and out of control.”

She arches a brow, then squints as she looks back and forth between Wyatt and me. She has no idea who we are.

“Okay. Well, thanks.” She turns to go, and as we’re saying goodbye, I’m already making plans for when I’ll see her again.

CHAPTER8

STELLA

Wow, I had those guys pegged. There are probably kids in Jessie’s class who are more mature than the two of them.

Guys shouldn’t be allowed to be that handsome on the outside, while being absolute children on the inside. But my god, they’re every bit as good looking as they were this morning—in fact, even more so in the daylight versus under the fluorescent lights in the store.

Their arms alone, all thick and bulging with muscles under the workout-type clothes they were wearing, are enough to make a woman drool. They both have big, strong-looking hands, and there was a moment when Wyatt was petting G that I envied the dog.

But a marshmallow battle? So ridiculous. So childish.

I march back to my house, put G in his crate, then do a super fast, if not very thorough, cleanup job in the back yard before I rush out to pick up Jessie.

Sometimes, when something interesting happens in my day–which is rare–I tell Jessie about it during the ride home, but I decide to keep all of today’s nonsense to myself.

I do tell her about Ana’s visit, and as soon as we get home, before she even takes her jacket off, Jessie opens the gift Ana left for her, which turns out to be a crystal-growing kit.

“So cool!” she says. “Auntie Ana always knows exactly what I like.”

“That does look very cool. Maybe we can get it started tonight after you do your homework.”

“I will, but first, Goldfish!”

At first, the name Jessie chose for the dog caused some confusion. When she was excited about goldfish, I was never sure whether she was talking about the dog or she wanted a snack. After a few days, it became clear that Jessie was always talking about the dog.

“Uh oh, Mommy.”

My stomach sinks at her tone. “What’s the matter, sweetie?”

“Goldfish is sick.”

I join my daughter at the dog’s crate, where there’s another foamy white puddle, much bigger this time than the spot by the door. Luckily, the crate is large, and Goldfish seems to have managed to stay clear of the mess.

“Jessie, can you do a favor for me? There was a very weird thing that happened earlier, and I’ll tell you all about it later, but I need your help right now while I clean this up.”

“Okay, Mommy.”

I hand her a small grocery bag from the cupboard. “Could you please search the back yard for marshmallows, and pick up every one you can find, and put them in this bag?”

“Marshmallows?” Her voice pitches up higher, understandably incredulous.

“That’s right. To make a long story short, there are two men who live in the house behind ours, and they accidentally launched a lot of marshmallows into our yard. Goldfish ate some, and that’s why his tummy’s upset.”

Jessie giggles but then stops herself. “I’m not laughing because Goldfish is sick, but that’s really silly about the marshmallows.”

I nod. “I agree. Very silly.”

After the mess and the remaining marshmallows are cleaned up, and Goldfish has been allowed in the back yard, Jessie brings him back inside and offers him a snack, which is part of her after-school routine.

“He won’t take the treat, Mommy.”

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