“Not bad. Would you like to help out in the shop? With school starting, I’ll need to replace Shelly.”

“Sure. But—um—I mean—” Because she needed a salary.

“I pay six-ten an hour for beginners. Plus room and board, special for you.” Margot, gathering things from the refrigerator, chuckled.

“Can you afford to do that?”

“Of course I can. You don’t have to worry about that at all.” Margot looked around the door, face as surprised as her voice.

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not a burden, and even if you were a burden, you wouldn’t be a burden, okay?”

“Thanks. When do I start?”

“How about Monday? That will give you tomorrow and the weekend to get settled in.”

Supper was a tuna salad made with every kind of lettuce but iceberg, a little sweet onion only on Betsy’s salad—“I remember you like onions,” Margot said—a sprinkle of herbs, four large croutons, and a dressing that was mostly a flavored vinegar with just a smidge of olive oil. It came with a hot loaf of crusty bread that would have been even better with butter instead of a “lite” margarine that was mostly air and water.

Afterward, over an herbal tea that was supposed to encourage the body to shed fat—Betsy was beginning to see how Margot stayed so trim—Margot said, “Would you like to take a walk and get a look at our city?”

Betsy grinned. “City?”

“It’s a legalism. The county passed a law years back that made all the little towns out here incorporate as cities or fold up. Wait till you drive through Navarre, which you must do without blinking or you’ll miss it, but it’s a city, too. Anyway, come on, I’ll show you our famous Lake Minnetonka.”

They went back to the comer of Lake and Water, where the lakeshore was marked by small wooden wharves. The sun was bright, but already the sun was well on its southward path, and their shadows pointed north as well as east. Large square-built excursion boats were tied up here, along with one odd little boat whose shape reminded Betsy of an old-fashioned streetcar.

“The Minnehaha.” Margot nodded. “Built in 1906, sunk in the lake back in 1926, then raised and restored a few years ago. Used to be owned by the public transit company, which explains its shape. It runs on weekends between here and Wayzata.”

“Minnetonka, Minnehaha? Do I see a pattern?”

“Indeed you do. The poem ‘Hiawatha’ was set in Minnesota and was very popular when things were getting named around here.”

“Ah.”

Beyond the wharves, the lakeshore was marked by a park, where some of the younger maple trees showed traces of orange. Apparently autumn arrived in September here. On their left, away from the lake, the ground swooped up, and was topped by grand old houses with big porches. How pleasant it must be to sit up there and watch the lake in all its moods.

The lake drew away, the park enlarged and grew a hill of its own, marked with big trees, and Lake Street ended at a tennis court. The sisters turned left and Betsy found she was now on West Lake Street. Well, okay; the lake itself also turned the comer, she could see it through the trees.