“There’ll probably be a Fudge separating us.”
“So why don’t you just tell me where our house is and that’ll be the end of it.”
“This is your house,” Sheila said.
“I thought this was your house.”
“It’s two houses, but they’re connected.”
“What do you mean connected ?” I asked.
“Didn’t you learn anything in sixth grade, Peter? Connected means attached . . . joined together . . .”
“I know what the word means,” I told her.
“Don’t worry,” Sheila said, “there’s an inside door that separates your house from ours.”
An inside door? I thought. How am I going to explain this to Jimmy Fargo? I promised him a forest between our houses . . . not an inside door!
