Page 11 of If the Fates Allow


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“You could set it on the deck, then back away from it.”

“Yeah, all right.” She set one of the bowls down and then stepped back.

Mason sat on the edge of his deck and slid under the wood railing, hopping to the ground. It wasn’t much of a drop. He took the bowl and climbed back onto the deck, using the stairs. Then he leaned against the railing across from Reagan again. “It looks perfect,” he said. “Are there layers?”

“It’s just Cool Whip and cherries,” Reagan said. “Also—there are pecans in there.”

“Yeah there are.”

“In case you’re allergic.”

“I’m not.”

“Well, good.”

He was looking at it.

“You can eat it,” she said.

“Now?”

“Yeah, we’ll just keep our distance.”

“All right.” He sat down at one end of his deck.

Reagan sat on her grandpa’s deck, at the other end. Mason took off his mask and smiled over at her. She’d been a little hard on his chin before—it was present. He had a square face. Narrow eyes. Lips that didn’t quite close over his smile. He looked like a chipmunk. She definitely would have pointed that out in high school; he was right to steer clear of her.

He was already taking a bite. “That’s the stuff,” he said.

Reagan took off her mask. She always had room for Jell-O salad.

“Is that pineapple?” he asked.

“Yeah. Pineapple, pecans and cream cheese.”

“And marshmallows.”

“You’ve got quite a palate over there,” she said.

“My grandma used to make this.”

“Mine, too.”

“God.” He was grinning at the bowl. “This stuff is like a time machine.”

Reagan was smiling at him. “I’m glad you like it.”

“She used to make the other one, too. With the um ...” He squinted and snapped his fingers. “Pretzels.”

“With raspberry Jell-O.”

He pointed at her. “Yes!”

Reagan shook her head like he was being stupid, but she was laughing.

“I love that one,” Mason said, taking another bite. “My mom never makes anything like this. She says my grandma cooked everything with packets of Jell-O and cans of soup.”

“We used to give my grandma such a hard time,” Reagan said. “It cracked us up that she called this a salad. ‘You kids want some more salad?’”