I would enjoy any kind of sweet treats. Diesel wags again.

We start walking. “I don’t know. They’re pretty popular. She only brings what’s left at the end of the day.”

“There’s nothing that’s not my favourite,” Morgan answers. “Anything will be great.”

“Did I tell you Dad is bringing The Shape of Water to watch with Mom tonight? She’s been wanting to see that forever.”

“What? That creepy movie where the mute lady falls in love with a lizard man?”

“It won best picture.”

“Doesn’t matter. No sane woman dreams of living underwater with a reptile. She’s not going to want to cuddle up to your father watching that!”

Everything else in my life seems to be clicking into place. Can’t this one night go right for Dad, too? I trip over a crack in the sidewalk.

“You okay?” Morgan grabs my arm so that I won’t fall all the way down.

Break your mother’s back — the kiddie rhyme comes back to me. Maybe it will be Dad who breaks his back.

“Yeah.” I continue as if nothing happened. “Do you really think those girls will be our friends when school starts?”

“Yup. What are you worried about? Not like you’re wearing little princess clothes today. You’re gonna look like a grown-up!”

“My father hates my bikini.” We turn up the walkway to my house.

“That’s a good sign.” Morgan winks, something she hasn’t done since yesterday. “Dads never like anything that attracts boys.”

We go inside, and soon Mom arrives, loaded with two boxes of treats, plenty for all: cream- and jam-filled donuts, sour-cream glazed, crullers, and muffins. Plus some of the mini-bits.

Mmm. Sweet smells. Diesel lies down close to Mom’s feet, like he hopes to trip her and score some goodies for himself.

“How many brothers and sisters do you have?” Mom asks Morgan.

“Two, one of each. It’s me who really loves donuts, Mrs. Bello.” Her face pinkens between the orange flecks.

“Well, you just enjoy,” Mom tells her. “Girls with your figures can eat whatever they want. Now, could I just have your mother’s phone number?”

“Sure. This is her cell.” Morgan holds out her own cracked phone for Mom to see the number.

Mom calls and seems happy with whatever Morgan’s mom answers, just as Morgan predicted.

Meanwhile, I put out some fresh kibble and water for Diesel. He glances toward the two boxes on the counter. Then he gives me a long mournful stare. This is what I’m getting? Nothing better?

You have too many treats. You need nutrition, too.

Kibble, bleah! He slowly shuffles to his dish, begrudgingly sniffs, and finally crunch-crunches through.

“I’ll go get my things,” I tell Morgan. Packing a towel, my toothbrush, some underwear, and a long T-shirt to sleep in, I’m ready in about five minutes. I pass Mom in the hall.

“You have fun, Naomi.”

“Uh huh. We’re going swimming with some friends later.” Being totally truthful should make me feel less tense, but it doesn’t. I throw my arms around her. “Love you,” I tell her, ’cause you never know.