Page 90 of Undone By The Mountain Daddies

“Two each,” says Cash, passing them around to everyone.

“See-See needs to learn how to do it. I’ll teach her.”

“Seriously? You’ve never made s’mores before?” Eli asks again, lines appearing between his brows. He’s obviously confused. They all are.

Except Cash, of course.

He knows celebrities are too busy to spend the weekend away camping, toasting marshmallows around a fire pit.

And even if I could squeeze in a weekend away, my nutritionist would go ballistic if she ever found out I was enjoying s’mores instead of hitting the macro goals she sets for me.

“Okay, See-see. It’s like a sandwich,” says Henry, holding up his two graham crackers in demonstration. “You’re going to love it. You’ll want to eat them every single day.”

“So why don’t we then, Henry?" asks Eli.

“Because too much sugar is bad for your body.”

“And teeth,” adds Eli, ruffling Henry’s hair.

Interesting. If you ask that question to a kid in LA, they’ll come back and tell you it’s because sugar makes you fat.

I examine the marshmallow when Knox hands it to me.

“You’re looking at that thing like it’s going to bite you,” chuckles Knox.

“I’ve just never had one in my hand before.”

Cash looks up at me, raises his eyebrows, and gives me a funny look.

I laugh out loud and want to give him the finger but don’t because of Henry.

“Here.” Henry hands me a skewer. “Put it all the way through so it doesn’t drop into the fire. That’s the worst.”

I feel a smile spread across my face as Henry takes over, helping me with something I should really know how to do myself.

A melancholy feeling passes through me as I toast the marshmallow over the flames beside Henry. I always thought fame was what I wanted. People knowing my name.

But I missed out on all of the simple pleasures in life, chasing that dream.

Henry squeals when my marshmallow catches fire. “See-See!”

“Oh no!” I slap a palm over my mouth. “What happened?”

“You put it too close to the fire. Here.” Henry takes over. “You can have mine, See-See.”

“No, buddy, that’s yours.”

“But I want you to have it.”

My chest contracts, that melancholy feeling returning. “No, bud. You’re supposed to have the first s’more, remember?”

Knox passes me another marshmallow. I watch Henry put his s’more together while I toast my replacement marshmallow over the fire, keeping it above the flames as instructed.

“I’m going to spread it into each corner,” says Henry, sliding his finger over the graham cracker.

“I hope you washed your hands, bud,” laughs Eli.

“For thirty seconds,” says Henry, “like you always tell me to.” He finishes spreading the marshmallow and holds out his hand. “May I please have some chocolate?”