They crossed the street to meet Clara at the end of the drive. Only the baby-blue Cadillac remained, its top down. “Dear friends!” she said. “You’re still here.”

“So are you,” Effie said.

“It’s so great to see you again,” Henry said.

She took their shoulders and kissed the air by their cheeks, smelling of coconut. “Look at you two, you’re all dressed up,” she said. “Wait—it’s Sunday, isn’t it? You’ve been to church, haven’t you?” She laughed, and before she could say anything more about it Effie asked if she was still cleaning up from the party. “God!” she cried, looking back at the house and wiping her brow as if she were sweating. It had been a nightmare, she said, but she’d sent the last of the riffraff home last night, thank God. “You should have seen it. I felt like I was running an orphanage.”

“It was some party,” Henry said.

“I hope I didn’t embarrass myself too much,” Effie said.

“Of course not!”

“I never, ever drink like that. I know I said some things…”

“You were a perfect lady,” Clara said. “You didn’t display your tits like Vera Watts, did you? God! Truth or Dare, among adults, really. But you were gone by then. I was sure you’d skipped town. How long are you staying?”

Henry felt a pang. He didn’t know who Vera Watts was, but he wished he’d seen her tits.

“I don’t know,” Effie said. She looked at Henry. “A couple more days?”

“Me too!” Clara said.

It had been a last-minute decision, she explained. Her old friend Max—they remembered Max, didn’t they?—he’d proposed the idea of staying on for a few days, when everyone else was leaving, because what was the rush? He was a writer, and Cape May seemed conducive to productivity. And Clara had thought, why not? The city was so depressing in the fall. The ocean air agreed with her. She hadn’t seen Max in ages.

“Is your husband staying too?” Effie asked.

“Richard?” Clara laughed. “Oh no, darling, Richard was the first to leave, thank God. It’s just us kids now.” Effie laughed uncertainly, glancing at Henry, and Clara rushed to continue: “I only mean, the poor man. He’s such an introvert, you know, and so devoted to his work…” She stopped herself. “But what are you doing today?”

Henry shifted the grocery bag in his arms, and Effie looked at him and said, “We were just coming back from the store. We thought we might go to the beach later, or…”

“We’re taking Papa’s boat out today,” Clara said. “Do you want to come?”