Tough Love

By: Shelly Griffin

              Whitney stared in utter horror at her parents. You are going to your cousin’s house for a week. The words replayed over and over in her mind as she tried to process them. Surely they didn’t mean Cousin Edward’s house. To his farm. Out in the middle of nowhere. Where you ate work for dinner and pranks for dessert. No, not there.

              She focused on her mother’s words again, “….where you’re going to keep Edward company while we go to…..” She tuned Mom out again. No, this wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening. She wasn’t going there again. Why did her parents think it necessary to go on a second honeymoon? In the summer? To Europe? They got to go on vacation and where did she get to go? To a farm to pick up cow manure, get pecked by chickens, bit by goats, and chased by wild dogs and friendly pigs. Strange and awful and lonely. That was about apt. As apt as she was going to get with that place.

              “So you’d better get packed. We’re leaving early in the morning so we can drop you off and get to our flight. We don’t want to miss it,” her dad was saying.

              Whitney looked at them with unfocused eyes. She really wished she had a brother or a sister. All her friends were vacationing–what she should be doing—and the only one she could tell was her diary. That wasn’t always helpful either. Not that it didn’t help at all. Her diary just didn’t talk back.

              She didn’t notice her parents had left until she heard the door click shut. She laid down on her pink and purple polka-

dotted comforter and stared at the pink ceiling. This was her room. She didn’t share it with anyone. Not even a pet. She needed a friend right now.

              Edward was twelve and she was a year older and she held that above him like a prize. Not that it made a difference. Everywhere he went, he acted like he owned the place. That confident know-it-all swagger said it all. Uncle John and Aunt Julie were nice, but Edward? He didn’t fit. Not even with the cows. Well, maybe with the pigs.

              The next day when they were pulling into the mile long driveway, Whitney looked around in dismay. It was exactly how she remembered it. The sign by the mailbox was tilted and hung on by one hook. Peaceful Acres Farm was painted on with ever-fading red paint. The gravel driveway had so many potholes it wasn’t fit to be called a driveway and the grass on either side was tall and in desperate need of a mow.

              They reached the clearing and, surprisingly enough, the white farmhouse was in good condition, as was the yard. Neat, weed-free flower beds, bursting with color, circled the house. The barn was another story. Bleached, red paint curled along the walls. Boards covered most of the windows. A bungee cord strained to hold the barn door closed.

              “Whitney, aren’t you going to say ‘hi’ to your cousin?”

              Whitney hadn’t realized they’d stopped until her dad spoke. Her cousin ran out of the house to meet them. She resisted the urge to lock her door. Her dad reached for his door handle. “Do I really have to stay here a whole week?” she whined.

              “Whitney.” He gave her the look and she knew she’d better drop it.

              “You’ll have fun, honey,” her mom said.” What kid wouldn’t at a place like this?”

              A city kid! If only her mom knew. Or her dad, for that matter. Both her parents got out of the car to greet her aunt and uncle, leaving her alone with her storming thoughts.

              This was just great. A week with Edward. How could she bear it? The problem was that she couldn’t. She’d need a lot of help from God. She’d better make the most of it.

              She was about to open the car door when it swung open. Edward grinned at her. She groaned.

              “Hiya, cuz!”                               

              “Hello, Edward.”

              “You came just in time for lunch. Come on.” He grabbed her arm and started dragging her toward the house.

              “Wait! You forgot to shut the door!” She tried to pull free of his grasp but it was like trying to get gum out of her hair. “Edward!”

              “We’re having tuna and ham salad sandwiches for lunch.” he was saying. He didn’t seem to hear her.

              “Let me go!” she yelled.

              “And lemonade. Oh, and chocolate chip cookies. Can’t forget about those.”

              “Edward, right now! Let me go!”

              Finally, when they were at the bottom of the porch stairs, he stopped. ”Well, why didn’t you say so?” He let her go.

              “Thank you.” She wiped off her arm and followed him into the house. If she remembered correctly, all the rooms in the house were painted a pale yellow because Aunt Julie had OCD. So far it was the same as the last time she’d been there—perfectly straight pictures on the walls, not a speck of dirt to be seen.

              They stopped in the doorway of the kitchen because everyone was congregated inside. No one paid them any attention—typical when she wanted them to.

              “So,” Edward said leaning against the door jamb, “Just what do you like to do for fun?”

              “Read a book,” she said sarcastically. She slipped past him and went to stand by her mom. She had to spend as much time as she could with her parents before she was doomed with her cousin’s company.

              “Whitney, I was just trying to make conversation.” He crossed his arms in a pout. Whitney thought about sticking her tongue out at him but didn’t want to get into trouble.

               “Well, I guess we’d better head out.” Dad said. “Call me if you need anything.”

              “Will do.” Uncle John said.

              Whitney hugged both of her parents. “Bye. I love you.”

              “We love you too, honey,” Mom said. “Remember,” she said, whispering in Whitney’s ear, “W.W.J.D. Don’t forget it.”

              “I won’t.”

               Dad and Mom went outside and everyone else joined them by the car.

              “Whitney, you forgot to shut the door,” Dad said.

              “I know.” She said with a sigh. Edward smirked at her. She glared.

              When her parents’ car was out of sight, Aunt Julie clapped her hands and said, “Everyone wash up for lunch.”

              After lunch, Whitney was told to unpack and settle in, which she was thankful for; Edward wasn’t allowed in a girl’s room. There was only one mishap during lunch, in which Edward had accidentally dumped his glass of water on her. She was proud of herself. She had refrained from dumping her glass of water on him and had taken his forgetfulness to apologize gracefully.

              She really needed help with her self-control. She took a marker out of one of her bags and sat on the edge of her bed. She wrote “W.W.J.D.” on the palm of her hand then held it up to admire it. This would definitely remind her to think before she spoke. If she thought “What would Jesus do?” before she said anything to Edward, maybe—

              A yell interrupted her thoughts. “Whitney, come out here! I want to show you something!”

              Whitney did not want to go outside and look at anything Edward wanted to show her. It was probably a dead rat or something just as disgusting. She was reaching up to scratch her head when she caught sight of the letters she’d written only moments ago. What would Jesus do? He’d probably go see what Edward wanted. He’d probably be nice to him and try to get along with him no matter what Edward did to Him. She sighed and walked to the door. She found Edward leaning against the opposite wall arms crossed. “It’s about time,” he said, sourly then perked up. “Come on.” And clomped down the stairs.

              “Hello to you too.” She muttered under her breath as she followed him outside.

              They walked past the barn and into a bright green field of grass where several cows grazed in the distance. Whitney’s foot came down on something squishy that oozed up over the sides of her new pink shoe. Something squishy, slimy and—“Gross!” She tried wiping the mess from her shoe onto the grass but gave up when it smeared worse. Instead, she crossed her arms and glared at Edward. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” she accused his ridiculously smiling face.

              “Course not.” He crossed his own arms and mimicked her stance. “That thing’s big enough you could have walked around it. Besides, why would I touch a cow pie if I didn’t have to?”

              “Plenty of reasons.” She pointed at her browned shoe. “Like this.”

              “Well, I guess if you’re gonna stand there fussin’ about cow poop all day, I won’t have time to show you the surprise.” He turned as if to go back to the house.

              Whitney thought for a moment. She really did want to know what the surprise was. She was curious but wouldn’t anyone be? Not if it was a surprise by Edward they wouldn’t. They’d be smart to leave well enough alone. But still…..she wanted to know. Her dad said that her curiosity would get her into trouble one day. Why not today? It’d save her the suspense of waiting until it did.

              “Oh, all right,” she said at last. She pointed a finger at him. “But on one condition.”

              “What?” he asked a little too sweetly.

              “No tricks. Understand?”

              He shrugged and started in the direction they’d been heading until her accident.

              “Edward,” she growled.

              “Fine,” he said, without turning.

              Grudgingly, she trudged after him, mindful of the brown piles. They walked a few minutes before coming to a grove of trees. They stopped on the brink of it.

              “This way.” Edward indicated beside a bush.

              “But there’s a path right there,” she said pointing in the opposite direction.

              “I know, but I want you to get the full effect of hiking in a scary forest.” He put his hands up like claws and made ghost noises.

              “Stop it, Edward!”

              “Am I scaring the city girl?” he taunted.

              Whitney felt like slapping him; he really needed it. She balled her lettered hand into a fist and closed her eyes. What would Jesus do? Would Jesus punch his cousin senseless even if he deserved it? No, he wouldn’t. He’d walk away from a fight, not take part in it. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. In a calm voice she said, “Edward, can you please just show me your surprise or take me back? I don’t want to fight with you.”

              As if forgetting the whole incident, Edward grinned. “Okay, let’s go.” He turned back to the bush and slipped between it and a small white birch tree. “Off through the forest we go. Maybe we’ll find Indians or bandits.” He smiled mischievously at her over his shoulder but kept going.

              She didn’t bother to tell him that this wasn’t a forest and that there were no Indians or bandits in here. It was pointless to argue with him. She balked before following after him, being careful of where she put her feet. They stepped over rocks, squeezed through spaces between trees, and got slapped in the face with branches. All for the sake of “getting the full effect of hiking.”

              “Bet you never done this in the city.” Edward said without breaking stride.

              “Nope.” Not even in her dreams. But she’d never say that aloud.

              Edward stopped in a small clearing at the base of a towering oak. “Here it is.”

              “It’s a tree.”

              “Duh. It’s sure not a bush. There’s a tree house up there. Come up and I’ll show you around.” He started climbing up a crude ladder which consisted of boards of various lengths nailed to the trunk.

              “Are you sure that it’ll hold?” 

              “Course it will. Besides, what’s the use of doing anything if you don’t take risks?” He kept climbing.

              Truth was, her cousin was right.

              “Well, here goes.” It was tough hanging on to the uneven boards and climbing at the same time, but she managed to get to the top without falling. She pulled herself up through the two-foot-square opening in the floor of the tree house and stood up to look around. It was a six-foot-square room and had shelves and counters lining the walls. A couple books and notebooks were on one shelf while the other shelves held jars with several different kinds of insects inside them. Some of them had water with fish or frogs in them. On the counter was a dead grasshopper, magnifying glass, flashlight, tweezers, and a pin.

              “What is this place?”

              Edward turned from the window he was looking out of and motioned to the blanket on the floor. She sat and so did he.

              “Welcome to my world.” He waved his arms around the room. “This is my special place. No one knows about it. Well, now you do.”

              “Why? Why did you show me this?”

              “There’s really nothing to do around here except chores and I didn’t want you to get bored and sneak off and leave me with all of them.” He grinned, got up, and grabbed something off one of the shelves. Whitney caught a flash of green before it was enveloped in his hands. He stepped in front of her and threw the object to her. On instinct, she reached up and caught it, then immediately dropped it and shrieked.

              “Edward!”

              “Surprise, cuz!” he said before falling apart in a fit of laughter.

              Whitney wiped her hands on the blanket and glared at the culprit who had caused her slimy fingers. A bright green and yellow frog hopped away from the chaos.

              “Edward, I said no more tricks!” she glared at the cackling Edward doubled over on the floor. “Now take me back to the house this instant!”

              He sat up and wiped tears from his eyes. “You should have seen your face.” He dissolved into another fit of laughter.

              “This isn’t funny.” She stood. “You know I don’t like frogs!”

              “I didn’t tell you to catch it.” He rose. His blue eyes danced with merriment. “Are you sure you want to go? I wanted to show you something else.”

              “I’ve seen enough, Edward James Holloway, and I want to go back to the house now! Right now!” She punctuated her last words with a stomp of her foot.

              “Okay, okay.” He put his hands up in surrender. “No need to get sore.”

              Sore?! She’d show him sore! She was downright furious.

              “Just calm down, Whit. I’ll take you back.”

              She closed her eyes, counted to ten, and reopened them. “I’m calm. Now can you take me back?”

              “Sure, right after I catch Henry.” She rolled her eyes as he bent over to retrieve the frog. When it was safely inside a jar, he pulled up his shirt and wiped his sweaty face. Disgusting! Boys were so gross.

              “All set.” He started down the ladder that wasn’t fit to be called a ladder and she decided to wait until he was the whole way down.

              She stuck her head down to watch his progress. He hadn’t descended more than two boards when his untucked shirt snagged on a nail. He let go with his left hand and reached up to unhook his shirt. Suddenly, his feet slipped and he swung to the right as his right hand took on the weight of his body. A startled yelp came from his lips as he looked up at her.

              “Help me, Whit!”

              His terrified blue eyes, which were dancing only moments ago, frightened her, causing her to hesitate for only a split second before snatching his outstretched hand as his other hand slipped. The weight of him jarred her arm, but she held firm.

“Hold on. I’ll pull you up, but you’ve got to help me.”

 She braced herself on the floor and started pulling Edward up towards safety. He clawed for a hand or foothold but was too terrified to do anything but hold onto her hand. “Help me, God,” she pleaded silently. And He did. Painstakingly slow, Whitney pulled her cousin back to the trapdoor where he grabbed the edge and hauled himself the rest of the way up.

              They lay there for several minutes panting and staring at the ceiling. “Thank you, God,” she said over and over in her mind.

 Edward propped himself up on his elbow and looked at her. “You saved me.”

She sat up. “I had help. Believe me.” She massaged her arm. “You need to lay off those tuna sandwiches. You are heavy, Eddie.”

“Hey, that rhymes.”

“That was the point.”

“So, who helped you? No one’s in here except us unless one of the bugs helped you.”

“No, silly, God helped me.”

“God?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“He really cares about me?”

“Of course he does. Why wouldn’t he?”

“Well, for one thing, I’m not a very nice person.” He sighed. “I used to be in a gang. The leader’s name was Benjamin Lee. We did petty stuff like vandalism and steal laundry off lines. Eventually we got caught and the gang was separated but still meets privately.” He stopped and looked at her. He looked so serious and regretful that he appeared to be a totally different person.

This was her chance to tell him about Jesus. “You don’t have to carry around the guilt anymore, Edward. You can give it to God. He’ll forgive you and take it away.”

“Yeah right. Why would God bother with someone like me?”

“Because He loves you. He sent His only Son to die in our place so that we could live forever with Him in heaven. But you must be saved in order to go there.”

Edward stood up and so did she. He took a few steps away from her. “Don’t preach to me, okay, Whit?” He sounded so defeated, she wanted to cry.

“I wasn’t. I was just answering your questions.”

“Well, forget about it then. Let’s just go home.”

He carefully tucked his shirt in and slowly went down the ladder with her close behind.

They walked on the path this time, then through the pasture in silence. When they reached the porch, he grabbed her arm before she opened the screen door. “Don’t tell anyone about the tree house or what happened there, okay?”

“Why?”

“Just promise me.” His grip tightened.

“Okay, I promise, but I don’t see why it’s such a big deal.”

“It just is.” He let go of her and followed her into the house.

Supper was quiet and afterwards Uncle John asked to speak with Whitney.

Once they were alone, he got down to business. “What happened to Edward? Why’s he so somber?”

“I don’t know. We were playing around and talking and I guess I said something that upset him.” It was the truth and she didn’t have to break her promise in order to say it. Uncle John seemed satisfied.

“I wanted to say thank you for playing with him and not fighting with him. I know you guys don’t always get along.”

“The problem is,” she said, “I have started a fight.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t break my word but I can tell you this. He’s at war with himself, and his soul is at stake.”

Over the next few days, Edward wasn’t himself. He was too serious and only played a few pranks on her. Whenever she brought up the tree house incident he clammed up and refused to talk about it. He sulked around the house and only went out to do chores. Aunt Julie was distraught and tried everything to get him out of the house, but he didn’t want to go.

On the fifth day since Whitney had been dropped off at the farm, Aunt Julie announced that the Henderson’s were hosting a kid’s cookout and decided they ought to be part of it.

“You’ll have a great time, Edward. You can introduce Whitney to all your friends.”

Edward looked as if he might refuse but instead said, “Sure.”

Aunt Julie smiled and said, “Have a great time and don’t eat too many marshmallows.”

And they were off, Edward on his bike and Whitney on Aunt Julie’s. Whitney wasn’t used to riding a bicycle for very long so she was out of breath after the first hill.

“How long is your driveway?” she panted.

“Half a mile.” He spoke casually. He wasn’t even winded. Arg! She thought it was a mile it felt so long.

“How much more do we have to go?”

They stopped at the end of the driveway. Well, she stopped but he kept on going, calling over his shoulder, “Oh, about two miles to Henderson’s’ place. Not that far.”

“Yeah, in a car!” she complained, but he ignored her.

When they finally got there, Whitney parked her bike and collapsed on the ground. Her legs felt like they would fall off and her lungs burned.

“Hey, don’t crash yet. We haven’t even gotten to the party. And I still have to show you to my friends.”

He acted like she was a frog or something to exhibit. She didn’t like the comparison, but tried not to take offense. “Just…….let me……..get……..my………breath.” she wheezed.

“Okay. I’ll wait with you.” He plunked down next to her. They sat there a minute looking around.

The Henderson’s had a small house with beautiful weed-free flower beds. The lawn had obviously been taken care of, holding a bright green color.

“You ready?” Edward asked.

“Yeah.”

He got up and offered her his hand. She hesitated, then took it and stood up. She brushed the grass off her skirt and followed Edward to the backyard and to the party where everyone was gathered. He introduced her to a few people before the party officially started.

There were drinks, snacks, and a fire to roast marshmallows and hotdogs. They played volleyball and freeze tag, but Whitney stunk at both.

“You’ll get the hang of it,” Edward encouraged.

But she didn’t. She couldn’t hit the volleyball hard enough to serve and the one time she did it was way off to the right and landed in a bowl of popcorn on some kid’s lap.

They were about to start another game when she said, “I’m staying out on this one.”

Edward gazed at her. ”So am I. I’m getting tired. You want to get a drink?”

“Sure.”

They got their drinks and took a few steps away from the crowd.

“You like it?” Edward asked between sips of lemonade.

“Yeah, it’s fun. I just wish I were better at sports.”

“Hey, no one’s perfect.”

“It was sweet of you to stop playing and hang out with me.”

“What are friends for? And cousins.” He grinned and then it faded. “Uh-oh.”

“What?” She followed his gaze. Three boys headed toward them.

“Who’s that?” she whispered.

“Benjamin Lee and his gang,” he whispered back.

“Oh.”

They stopped a few feet from where Whitney and Edward stood. “Why weren’t you at the meeting, Ed?”

The question was casual but held an undercurrent that Whitney didn’t like. This redhead looked mean.

“I was busy,” came the reply.

“Too busy to meet with friends? Or aren’t you anymore?” His green eyes sparked and Whitney sensed that this boy’s anger could be easily provoked.

“I’ve quit the gang.” Edward said hotly.

“Since when?” Ben stepped closer.

“Since now.” Edward met his stare with blue fire.

Ben’s gaze shifted to Whitney and a wry smile lit his face. “So, who’s your girlfriend, Lover Boy?”

Ben’s sudden change from friend to enemy revealed he’d never really been her cousin’s friend.

“You leave her out of this!” he said, stepping in front of Whitney.

“Or what, Lover Boy? You gonna hurt me? I’m so scared.” Another step closer.

Edward didn’t answer, which was answer enough.

“So, your girlfriend talk, Lover Boy?”

“She’s not my girlfriend. She’s—”

“Trying to be modest, eh?” Ben cut him off. “Don’t. Everyone saw how you looked at her. Like she was someone special to you.” A step closer.

In that moment, Whitney realized how wrong she’d been about Edward. He’d changed since the tree house incident. Sure, he’d tricked her, was mean to her, but deep down inside he liked her—even if it was grudgingly. When she got annoyed with her dad for picking on her, he’d say that he did it because he was fond of her. Was it the same with Edward? Not before, but she believed it was now. Here he was, selflessly placing himself between her and a bunch of bullies with who knows what in mind. He liked her and she realized he wasn’t so bad after all either. He was looking after her.

Edward remained silent.

“What’s the matter, Lover Boy? Can’t deny it?” He socked him hard on the arm. Edward didn’t even flinch.

This had gone on long enough. Whitney stepped from behind him and shot daggers at the bullies. “Shut up! Just shut up!”

They were so surprised that they did.

“Stay out of this, Whit,” Edward cautioned under his breath.

She gave a tiny shake of her head. “Now just so you know, I am his cousin and I will not tolerate you treating us this way. Now if you’ll kindly step aside, we need to be going.”

Ben finally found his voice. “Who are you to tell me what to do? And just what makes you think I should move?”

“Because I said so.”

“Oh yeah? Then make me.” He crossed his arms and smirked at her.

Whitney clenched her lettered hand in a fist and said to herself, “Jesus forgive me.” Then she slapped Ben full across the face. His eyes widened in surprise then darkened to anger.

 “Why you little—” He drew back his hand, but Edward pushed Whitney away.

“Lay a hand on her and I’ll put a dent in your face!”

“Anyone lays a hand on anyone and they’re going to have a talk with the sheriff,” a voice said.

They all looked to where Mr. Henderson stood with his phone in his hand.     

“You haven’t heard the last from me. I’ll be back and I’ll get you both.” Ben’s threat was low enough that Mr. Henderson couldn’t hear. Then the gang left.

“Thanks, Mr. Henderson.” Edward said relieved.

“Don’t mention it. I couldn’t have that bunch causin’ trouble on my property, now could I? You guys enjoy the rest of the party.” He left them to talk to someone else.

Whitney sank to the ground with Edward beside her. “That was close.”

“Too close,” he agreed, then said, “Why’d you do it?”

“Why’d you?”

He shrugged. “Guess I do care about you.”

“I care about you too.”

“You know Whit, you’ve changed.”

“So have you.”

“No, I mean really changed. I could tell you didn’t want to slap that jerk but you did it for me. Why?”

“Well I guess I did and I didn’t. The old me wanted to but the new me didn’t. Guess I still need some work. This is why I changed.” She held out her hand to him and he frowned in puzzlement.

“What does it mean?”

“What Would Jesus Do? Every time I do something, I ask myself this question. I’ve asked Jesus into my heart and I do what He wants me to do. Except a few minutes ago when I hit that boy.”

“I want it, Whit.”

“Want what?”

“I want what you have. I want to be saved.”

She couldn’t believe it! She’d prayed for this to happen and now it had. She explained everything to Edward and he followed the steps to let Jesus come into his heart.

He hugged her. “I love you, cuz.”

“I love you too.” And she meant it. “Let’s go tell your parents.”

While they were riding home, Whitney felt like she was floating she was so happy. The time seemed to fly by and before long they were riding into the yard and running up the porch steps.

Edward called, “Dad! Mom!”

While she called, “Uncle John! Aunt Julie, come here!”

They all gathered in the kitchen and told the whole story.

“I’m proud of you, son.” Uncle John said, gripping Edward’s shoulder. He winced slightly but kept smiling.

“You okay, Eddie?” she asked.

“Yeah, it’s just a bruise. Too bad I had to get it in order to realize that I loved you.”

“Tough love.” She said. “We’re closer anyway so I’d say it was worth it.”

“Me too.”

The next day, they got up early to do chores: cleaning out the chicken coop.

“This is so gross!” Whitney said, putting another shovelful into the wheelbarrow.

“Part of the farm, cuz. Gotta have eggs, and if we want eggs we gotta keep the chickens happy.”

“It’s still gross.”

When they finished, they went to work refilling troughs. One had a leak and made a big mud puddle beneath it. She bent over to examine the crack, then stood and turned only to have mud splatter the front of her shirt.

“Hey!”

Edward grinned and held up another mud ball.

“I thought you changed?”

He shrugged and let the mud fly. She dodged it.

“What can I say? I’m fond of you, Whit. How would you know if I didn’t pick on you?”

“Then I’m fond of you.” She made her own mud ball and threw it, hitting him in the chin.

“Hey, no fair!”

They threw mud back and forth until both of them were covered.

“I never want to go home!” she exclaimed. “I’ve never been so disgustingly dirty in all my life and still had fun!”

“I told you.” He let another ball loose and she dodged it.

“We’d better get washed off before we get caught.”

“Okay.”

They’d just gotten rinsed off when they heard someone call, “Whitney, phone!”

“Coming!” She sprinted to the house.

Aunt Julie looked her over. “Do I want to know?”

“Probably not.” She took the phone and sat on the porch.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Honey. How’s it going?”

That one question brought back memories of the campout. Whitney had asked Edward if she should be worried about Ben’s threat. He had said no because Ben’s family was moving.

“Fine, Dad. Is something wrong?”

“I’m afraid so. Don’t get upset, but our flight was canceled because of a bad storm and we can’t come get you tomorrow. I’m afraid you’ll have to stay a little longer, but don’t worry. We’ll—”

“Dad, I’m fine and I didn’t want to leave anyway.”

“You mean you’re not upset?”

“No.”

“What happened?”

“I’ll tell you all about it when you come to pick me up. Love you, bye.” She hung up before he could respond and raced back to where Edward was waiting.

“I don’t have to leave!” she squealed.

“You don’t?”

“No. I get to stay a little longer.”

“Woo-hoo!”

“So in that case,” she reached for more mud, “let’s resume.” Splat!

She spun around and ran with Edward in muddy pursuit.