I follow Eliza gladly, grateful we’re hidden from the road.
“What do you think it's doing?” Eliza asks, her neck craned as she looks up into the tree.
“I think it's getting ready for winter, sweetheart. It's going around collecting food for when there isn't any.”
“They don't have any food?” Eliza's brow knits, a line forming between her eyes. “Should we come and give the squirrels food this winter?”
“No, sweetheart, they're fine all on their own. That's why they're storing food now, so they have it for when it gets cold and things aren't growing.”
“Oh.” Eliza doesn't look entirely convinced.
“It's in their nature, sweetheart. That's what squirrels are made to do—eat to get fat and collect food for the winter, just like geese are made to fly south and whales migrate to warmer waters, like you learned in school.”
I look up into the tree's canopy, watching the play of sunlight dapple the leaves still left on the tree while those that have fallen crunch under our feet.
“Just like it’s in the nature of trees to turn colors in the fall and sleep until the spring. It's just what they do.”
My daughter is a little more convinced. That, or she's just lost interest. I'm guessing the second one as she runs over to an empty swing and jumps on.
“Push me, please,” she calls.
I dutifully push my daughter on the swings while keeping an eye out for anything suspicious around us. I don't see anything—no one looks out of place here. I recognize most of the parents.
When we're done at the park and exit in the opposite direction that we entered, there is no sedan with blacked-out windows to be seen. I know I'm imagining things. I have to be. There is no earthly reason for someone to follow me.
I manage to convince myself, so much so, that I don't tell Suzie about the weird encounter when she calls later that evening
I'm getting dinner ready when she calls. I put her on speaker as I mix the veggies on the sheet pan, waiting to go into the oven to roast.
“What's up?”
“Did you get your dress yet for Saturday?” Suzie asks without preamble. I hear Benji’s deep bark in the background.
We've been best friends since elementary school. There’s no need for preamble.
“I bought it, but the tailor hasn’t called me yet. They had to take it in in some places and let it out in others.”
“Please tell me you'll have the dress. You're an important member of the firm, so you need to be there.”
“I'm the gofer. You only want me there so you have someone to talk to and someone to hold you back when one of the idiot male partners makes an inappropriate joke. Admit it—I'm your fairy god wingman. Or whatever.”
“Fine, just promise me you're coming. Ineedyou there on Saturday night.”
“Where are you going Saturday night?”
I'm taking the leftover rotisserie chicken out of the fridge when I hear the voice behind me. “Aunt Suzie and I have a party to go to,” I explain to Eliza.
“Hey kiddo,” Suzie calls from the other end of the phone line.
“Hi, Aunt Suzie,” Eliza replies. “Is it a birthday party? Are they gonna have a bounce house like at Genevieve’s party? Can I go?”
“It's an adult party, sweetheart,” I tell her. “There are no bounce houses, no cake, no games, and no presents.”
“Yeah, just a bunch of boring old people wandering around and fake laughing at each other. It's really booorrriiinnngg,” Suzie adds, and Eliza makes a face, her nose screwing up.
“I think Jade has a bunch of fun things for you, though.”
I hold my breath as Eliza watches me, then let it out as she shrugs. “Okay. When's dinner? I'm hungry.”
