~Jennie’s~

“Why do I look like a retired camp counselor?”

Reo glares down at his khaki shorts like they’ve betrayed him personally. His navy polo is half-tucked, his hair un-gelled, and Blue—our precious dictator—refuses to let go of the matching sunhat he’s shoved on Reo’s head. I don’t even try to hide my giggle. It slips out and echoes over the garden lawn like justice.

“You said ‘blend in,’ O’Neal. Not ‘blend into a Crayola family catalog.’”

“You blend beautifully,” I say, deadpan. “Like a dad who hates every second of this but still showed up.”

Blue, dressed in mini-matching overalls, babbles something about juice and then runs off toward...