It was a nice place with white shutters, a picket fence, and flowers growing out of every pot on the front porch. It looked like there were flowers growing everywhere. “Cassie’s parents will want to say hello,” Jamie said. “Why don’t you go in with me?” “We gonna make the movie on time? I like to see the trailers.” “We’re fine,” Jamie said. “Okay.” Tim went to the porch, and the smell was like walking into one of those candle stores at the mall. It smelled so good that he wanted to bottle the aroma and sell it to little old ladies who loved flowers. The Strowers were nice people with nice clothes and nice smiles. They even had a nice dog who didn’t bark, and Tim wondered if it was a Christian dog. It just sat there looking at him with floppy ears and didn’t move—except for his tail. Big eyes studying Tim like it knew he wasn’t one of “them” and that he’d probably never crack open that Bible the Maxwells gave him except maybe to make people think he was reading it.
