Austin felt he qualified.

By the end of his workout, however, he rounded up enough courage to walk across the street to the Maceys’ to see if Macey was around. He had just hit the Maceys’ back porch when he realized that in his condition, a shower would definitely have been in order.

“Hi, Austin,” said Macey’s grandfather. “She isn’t here.”

Austin wanted to jump in the ocean and go live with the ducks. He could not stand it that Macey’s grandfather knew why he was coming. So he said, “I know. I just wondered if I could walk the dogs. Get a little exercise.”

Macey’s grandfather looked at the sweat-soaked sweatsuit Austin was wearing and said, “Exercise is good, Aus, and you just feel free to go on doing my share.”

Moose could have run ten miles; it was Aus who had been rowing for an hour and couldn’t walk faster or farther than Zipper. When he got back, Mrs. Macey was melting chocolate. “What are you going to make?” he wanted to know.

Macey’s grandmother grinned at him. She was this fat old woman who had the cutest grin in the world. “Lucky Devil’s Cake,” she told him. “As in ooooh, you lucky devil, you! You’re getting the world’s best chocolate cake.”

Austin laughed. “Can I help, Mrs. Macey?”

“Wash up. Wear that apron.”

Austin had never had an apron on. It was a rather pleasant feeling, like turning the computer on; he was ready.

He measured. He sifted. He added. He poured. He stirred. He got the bowl to lick. “Wow,” he said to Macey’s grandmother, “why even bake it? Just pour it in a glass and drink it.”

She smiled, poured him a glass of cake and sent him home.

Macey had extra money, always a nice thing, so Saturday afternoon, she and Lindsay and Grace went shopping. Lindsay shared her car with her older brother and sister, and Saturdays she was last in line for the car, so Grace’s mother dropped them off. They were limited to the streets within walking distance, and these were mainly shops they couldn’t afford. But that was the best kind of shop for browsing.

They tried on clothes and shoes. They examined spring fashions and new bathing suit lines. They studied new lipstick colors. They deliberated among several new CDs, but Lindsay and Grace were so opposed to Macey’s favorite rock bands that she didn’t buy anything.

“So the Aus collection,” said Lindsay, “consists of a twig, a T-shirt with holes in it and a cap for a team you don’t care about.”

“The Aus collection,” said Macey with dignity, “is a remarkable gathering of treasures of which you can only be jealous.”

They paused among scarves and accessories.