Page 27 of Shattered Dreams

The whole afternoon is like that. Full of laughter and sun. True to his word, Andre orders pizza—which I refuse to let him pay for, since he was nice enough to have us over in the first place.

Dusk settles in, and the fireflies can be seen glinting around the yard, and all that can be heard is the faint sound of Poison’s “Nothin’ but a Good Time” carrying from Dre’s phone. I plop down in the seat closest to Dre as I open my bag with my secret stash of S’mores supplies—including four basic roasting sticks.

“What’s this?” Andre asks, surprised.

“Dessert.”

Andre’s lips pull up in the corners, the hint of a smile on his face glowing from the golden light of the small fire in front of us.

“You said nothing about s’mores.” His eyes light up with excitement. I grin.

“I know.”

“What’s a s’more, Daddy?”

“Don’t tell me she’s never had a s’more,” I deadpan.

Andre’s cheeks tint with blush, but it could be the light of the fire.

Though something tells me it isn’t.

“Uh… no.”

Maddox gasps. “What?”

Rylee seems confused as she looks between her dad and Maddox, then she looks at me.

“They are like marshmallow sandwiches,” Maddox says.

Her eyes get as big as saucers.

I open the bag of marshmallows.

“Come here, Rylee.”

She looks back at her dad, blinking for a moment as if she is unsure what to do. He nods.

“Go ahead.”

She skips towards me with peaked interest.

I offer her a marshmallow to eat first, then show her how to place the puffy piece of deliciousness on the stick carefully. She settles in the space between my knees as I guide her to hold the stick.

“You have to rotate it so it gets toasty on all sides. That’s how it gets all gooey and sticky.”

She giggles, and I hear Andre laugh, too.

“Maddox, you’re up!” I say.

He gets the graham crackers and the chocolate down, and I take the stick from Rylee’s hand and smoosh the perfectly toasted marshmallow between the graham crackers, and then I break it in half. The strings of marshmallow fluff glint from the light of the fire as I hand her half and then tap her half with mine.

“Cheers.”

I all but inhale mine, but Rylee takes the smallest bite, as if she’s afraid it’ll bite her, but I know when she tastes the chocolaty-marshmallowy goodness, it’s all over.

Because her half disappears just as quickly.

“We need to make one for Daddy!” she says excitedly, and before I can answer her, she’s already fishing out another marshmallow, and I catch one in my hand from her abruptness.