Dinner had been surprisingly good, and Braden had announced he wouldn’t eat spaghetti any other way ever again. “Not even as SpaghettiO’s?” Remy had asked. “Because I bought a can for you for lunch tomorrow, but I guess I can take it back…”
“No, I’ll eat it,” Braden quickly assured his father. “But that isn’t real spaghetti. That’s spaghetti in a can.”
Eventually Lane had taken Braden out onto the porch and shown him the pool, which was covered by a white tarp already coated with a few fall leaves. Braden’s eyes threatened to pop out of his head. “It’s inground? You never said it was inground! Wait until I tell all my friends! They’re going to hate me!”
But from the way he’d said it, Lane didn’t think that bothered Braden much. In fact, by the time he went to bed, he was already talking
