Page 86 of Just One Little Bargain

“Charades,” she announces. “Teams.”

“I love this game.” Ivy straightens in her chair so fast her cider sloshes. “Caleb.”

“Babe, I’m teaching Milo about the West Coast offense.”

“The West Coast offense can wait. This is bonfire charades.”

“Fine. I surrender.”

Teams form quickly: Caleb and Ivy, Ben and Holly. Nadia assigns me and Milo as the third team, then appoints herself scorekeeper, prompt master, and self-declared referee before anyone can object.

“You’re not on a team?” Holly asks.

“I don’t join games. I run them.” Nadia tears strips from a paper napkin and starts scribbling prompts. “Everyone writes three. Fold them. Put them in . . .” She looks around and grabs the empty cider mug. “This.”

Milo leans toward me, voice low. “What are charades?”

“You act something out without speaking, and your partner guesses what it is.”

He considers this with growing concern. “That sounds like a very inefficient communication method.”

“That’s the game.”

“Why not just say the word?”

“Because that would defeat the purpose.”

“The purpose being inefficiency?”

“The purpose being fun.”

Nadia distributes the slips. Ivy and Caleb go first.

Caleb draws a slip, reads it, and groans. He holds up his fingers.

“Two words,” Ivy says.

He shapes a circle with his hands, pretending to bite into it.

“Apple! Pie! Pumpkin!”

He shakes his head and mimes the round thing again, then cradles it, rocking it.

“Baby!”

He points at her, excited, moving on to the second word. He walks with an exaggerated swagger and flexes.

“Baby . . . strong? Baby muscle? Baby gym?”

Caleb drops character to stare at her. “Baby gym?”

“I panicked!”

“It’s Baby Shark!”

“How was any of that a shark?”

“The swagger! The fin!” He does the motion again.