I had wonderful neighbors on the country road where I grew up. Mrs. Martin’s husband could solve a Rubik’s Cube in record time. Mrs. Smith grew the best strawberries and was reliably generous with pints of them. Teenage Marissa was my favorite babysitter. (She brought books.) And Jeremy, five doors down, was my best friend.
In fact, all my friends were boys, which was fine by me. I would ride Jeremy’s bike and play with his G.I. Joes. Marissa’s brother taught me how to throw a football in a spiral, and I learned the rules of pickup basketball by watching the older boys play. On our first day of school, the boys and I all rode the bus together, and the camaraderie I felt with them — despite the dress and knee socks Mom had forced me to wear — made that day less scary.
