Page 60 of Here You Are

Ben gathered up his girls, the s’mores supplies, and the old maids, and got the driveway fire party started. It’s wild how excited children get about burnt sugar sandwiches. Also, if I thought the idea of roasting some marshmallows around the fire with the girls sounded relaxing, I was so, so wrong. I may have lived a charmed life thus far based on this statement, but it was one of the most stressful evenings of my life.

“Linden, I swear if you start one more marshmallow on fire, on purpose, your bedtime is going to be 3 p.m. for the rest of the year. Wake up, go to school, come home, go back to bed.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose, Dad.”

“Right. I can tell if something was on purpose or an accident based on how evil a glimmer you have in your eye. This is your last warning,” Ben warned her.

I chimed in, trying to help. “Linden, do you want me to help you so they don’t get burnt? I'm a pretty good marshmallow roaster.”

She shrugged and replied, “I like them burnt.”

“Well, it seems like you might be stressing your dad out, so why don’t I show you how to roast a perfect golden brown marshmallow. Then we can do a blind taste test to see which one you like better. Deal?”

She shrugged and mumbled, “Sure.”

We set her charcoal marshmallow to the side, and I started roasting a new one for her. As I was doing that, Brooklyn and WJ were chatting, and Ben was helping Taylen with her s’more. If you didn’t know better, you would look and see two parents, three kids, and grandma hanging out together. However, that’s not what we are—an amazing dad and his amazing kids and the two weird lady neighbors who crash their family time. Oh God, I am going to end up just like WJ. Old and alone and crotchety and nosy. I already have half of the characteristics.

Shaking my head to clear the image of that frightening future, I turned to Linden and said, “Go find something you can use as a blind fold, then I'll help you taste test these to see which one you like better.”

Linden ran off toward the garage and came back with a bucket. I’m not sure how her ten-year-old brain logic came up with that, but I instructed her to try again. She came back with a stocking hat, which was a better solution.

“Okay. Pull the hat down over your eyes, and I’ll feed you a chunk of marshmallow. You have to eat them both and then tell me which one you like more. No cheating, because this is a very important experiment that will determine how you prepare s’mores for the rest of your life. Got it?”

She nodded very seriously and said, “Got it.”

She pulled the hat down over her eyes, and I waved my hand in front of her face to test her field of vision, which gave Taylen the giggles. First, I ripped off a chunk of the piece of coal formerly known as a marshmallow. When I fed it to her, a poof of black soot flew out of her mouth.

“Okay, that was number one. Ready for the next one?” I asked.

“I’m ready,” she replied, still working on swallowing the charred marshmallow.

“Here it is. Option number two.”

She took the second, appropriately cooked marshmallow in her mouth and let out a little moan of pleasure. “Oh my gosh, that is so good. It’s the not-burnt one, isn’t it?”

“It sure is. So which one was your favorite?”

She ripped off her hat blindfold, and shrugged. I could see the internal struggle playing through her mind. She’s trying to decide if she’s going to have to commit to a lifetime of subpar roasted marshmallows so she won’t have to admit defeat.

“Well, I like them both, but the second one had a better texture and taste.”

“It sounds like the second one is the winner, and if you accidentally burn one in the future, you can still eat it. This is where the second half of your life begins, Linden.”

“Can you help me make another one?” she asked.

Ben chimed in and said, “I think you’ve had enough sugar for tonight, girly.”

“But, Dad, it’s for science. That’s what Cassie said,” she argues back.

“We have to respect your dad’s wishes...but it is for science,” I replied, batting my eyelashes at Ben.

He stared back at me, trying to be stern and failing. He said, “Okay, since it’s for science. But this is the last one, and if there’s any vomit tonight, Cassie has to come clean it up as part of the experiment.”

“Deal!” Linden said at the same time I said, “Ew, no way.”

We never came to an agreement on that, but I never got called back for puke patrol. I lay in bed smiling to myself about the unexpected turn of events that night. Ben really wears his heart on his sleeve, and I can see him envisioning the future when he sees me with his girls. He is not good at hiding his feelings, and man, that is attractive. I’m trying to avoid thinking too deeply about this because we haven’t been dating that long, yet flirting with the idea is tempting. He’s so good that it makes it hard not to go there in my mind.

I heard my phone vibrate just as I was about to roll over to go to sleep.