When I finally hauled out the weeds, she was standing at the trash bag, holding it open for me. “Thanks. For what you said. I’m happy to know I have a—”

“Superfan.”

“Yeah. That.” I dropped the weeds in and took a step back, tugging off my gloves. “If you want merch, I can see if Rowan still has shirts lying around in the back of his trunk.”

“Ooh. Classy.”

I couldn’t help it. A gigantic smile spread across my face. The motion rattled all the locks on all the pieces of myself I kept hidden. She reached forward and squeezed my wrist. A completely friendly gesture. The pressure of her fingers on my skin, though, sent those late-night fantasies surging to the surface. When she turned away, I almost snatched her hand back.

A few seconds later, her face brightened as she was tying up the second bag. I followed her gaze to find Eddie, shuffling back down the block with Pam in his arms.

Tabitha pressed onto her tiptoes and called out over the fence, “Hey, how was the diner, Eddie?”

He responded with a thumbs-up. “Your father makes a biscuit that should be illegal, in my opinion. And he said to tell you to come by tomorrow night for his late shift. Bring your sister and Eric and your niece along.”

“I think I can do that,” she said. “What do you think of our progress? We’ve got one bag down, literally billions to go probably.”

Eddie gave us that same crooked smile, like he was seconds away from mischief. “I’m impressed, you two. Why don’t I round up whoever else is around on a Saturday, see if they wanna help?”

“That would be nice, thank you,” I said. As he walked over to Natalia and Martín’s house, Tabitha looked giddy.

“It’s a beautiful morning for a neighborhood cleanup day,” she said. “Oh man, this is so exciting, isn’t it?” She hurled a ball of trash into the bag with a swish. “Is this how you thought you’d be spending your Saturday? Gettin’ wild with garbage?”

I leaned on the shovel. “If I wasn’t doing this, then probably a baseball game with Rowan and some of his coworkers. Or out for a couple beers. Maybe help my mothers with their pretty demanding house projects.” I glued my eyes to the ground as I twisted the tip of the shovel back and forth. “Used to be Saturday nights were fight nights. If not mine, then someone else’s. I’m not as welcome in those spaces as I used to be. Not at the bars after either.”

Tabitha pressed her lips together. “Because you retired and people are still mad about it?”

“Memories are long here. Tempers are short,” I said.