Love Me Forever. Muriel Jensen

      “But they’re your guests.”

      “No.”

      “Everyone brought you presents. It would be nice if you let everyone...”

      “No.”

      “When you go to their houses,” Hunter said, “they’ll let you play with their stuff if you let them play with yours today.”

      Addie thought about that. “No,” she finally said.

      Danny hung over her. “You can have my spy nightscope for a day if I can ride your car around the yard just one time.” Danny could often be seen in front of his home after dark, night goggles on, their pop-up spotlight activated. Addie lusted after them. Sandy had a mental image of the two of them off on a spy mission in Addie’s car and with Danny’s goggles.

      Addie thought again, then looked into his face, her expression fierce. “Promise?”

      “Promise.” He crossed his heart and held his palm up in an oath.

      She climbed up and shouted orders as Danny climbed in. “You can’t hurt the flowers, and you have to go slow there.” She pointed to the corner.

      Danny rode off, the children running the perimeter with him.

      “That was good, Addie,” Sandy praised, though her daughter had made the good choice out of greed, not generosity. But, truth be told, Sandy still made some of her own decisions that way. “Look at how much fun your friends are having.”

      Addie caught up with the crowd of cheering children as Danny navigated the turn, slowing as instructed, before heading toward the house.