“Well, just tonight, then.” She stepped toward me with her arms out and held me, and I tried to hug her back. This was awkward for us. We weren’t practiced at it. I wished I could tell her to have a good time where she was staying, that she did deserve it, but the words wouldn’t come out of my mouth. I remembered once when she’d tried to go to the beach for one day by herself, just to get some peace, and fell asleep in the dunes. She’d come home with terrible sunburn that blistered and was sick for days.

“We’ll be good. Promise.” We moved apart, and I nodded at Beatrice, who was wearing a matching green Danskin outfit of shorts and top. “People in the South are probably all dressed in flag today. Maybe Bea should arrive in some red, white, or blue.”

“Oh God. The Fourth of July. We’ll stop somewhere on the road.”

I hugged Beatrice then, her little frame smack against me, and I squeezed her until I knew she couldn’t breathe, and she laughed. “Stamp to scare rattlesnakes and only swim when there’s a lifeguard. And have fun.”

“Bye, Libby.” She sat in the back of the car and waved out the window until they reached the end of the driveway.