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She dashes into her house but less than a minute later she’s back outside. Leia follows her. She glances across our yards and waves to me before turning and hurrying back inside.
I frown. Does Isla want to play with me because her mom doesn’t have time for her?
“I have permission!” Isla screams from across her backyard to me.
“What do you want to play?” I ask when she reaches me.
“Yeah,” Gibson chimes in. “What do you want to play?”
“Don’t forget me.” Jett pushes me out of the way to stand on the back porch.
Isla inches closer to me before asking, “Who are they?”
“I’m Gibson.”
“And I’m Jett.”
“We’re friends of Fender.”
Isla glances up at me for confirmation. “They’re my roommates.”
“Are they in the band with you?” I nod. “Are they rockstars, too?”
I nod.
“Okay.” She shrugs as if meeting rockstars is not a big deal.
“Let’s play Simon says. I’m Simon,” she says before she starts bossing everyone around. “Fender, you here. Gibson, you there. Jett, over there.”
Once we’re in the positions she wants us in, she stands in front of us and places her hands on her hips. She’s adorable. The perfect daughter.
A pain knifes through my stomach but I ignore it. Children are not for me. I’ve learned my lesson. I force thoughts of her and the past out of my mind. I prefer not to give any headspace to her.
“Simon says touch your left ear.”
We touch our left ears.
“Simon says touch your right ear.”
We touch our right ears.
Leia points to Gibson. “Simon didn’t say to stop touching your left ear. You’re out.”
“No fair,” he pouts.
“Simon says release your ears.”
Jett and I drop our hands.
“Simon says touch your toes.”
Jett groans. “What if we can’t touch our toes?”
Isla cackles. “Simon didn’t say you can talk. You’re out!”
“This game is harder than I remember.” He falls to the ground in a heap. “I’ll win the next one.”
Isla smiles at me. “You win!”
