When I reached her I hooked my arms over the ring, resting my chin on the slippery plastic. We looked at each other, smiling, happy to be meeting here. The weight of my body spun the ring around and we circled like that, bobbing in the rippled water, our legs dangling down together, brushing against each other. I tried to imagine what Carlow would do with her in my position, out here alone for a moment. I imagined pulling my knee up between her legs.

“He’s cute, though, right?” she said.

“Carlow?” I replied.

She grinned, water dripping off her nose. “You think Carlow is cute?”

I had no idea how to answer. It occurred to me she could’ve been talking about her son. “Sure,” I said. “I mean, objectively, of course he is.”

She laughed. “Objectively?” she said. “But is he cute to you?”

I guessed it would be more insulting if I said her lover was unappealing so I said, “Yeah,” as casually as I could muster.

She grinned. “I wonder if he likes you,” she said.

“Isn’t he . . .” I trailed off. Had she forgotten what she said to me on that island upstate? Had I somehow gathered the wrong meaning from her words? She did know that I knew, didn’t she? Was she trying to get rid of him? “Isn’t he taken?” I said.

She grinned again, her only answer, that flash of her teeth in the sun. “What kind of men do you like?” she said.

I didn’t know what to say. I thought, Traditionally? Whoever’s interested. Currently? Whoever’s interested in you. I said, “All men.”

She laughed. “I might know a few guys who fit that description.”

She sank down then and popped up in the middle of the ring, very close to my face. “Let’s swim to shore,” she said, waving at James. “Come to the side, help me push this stupid thing.”

I did as I was told, holding on to a blue handle on the side of the ring and swimming alongside her. Our progress was slow, swimming connected like that, with me able to use only one arm. It took us a long time to reach land. When we did, Lonnie slipped on an algae-covered rock, splashing back into the water, the yellow tube comically bouncing off her. She laughed, though she had skinned her knee and blood started trickling down her leg. She ignored the wound completely, just letting the blood pool. The rocks on the shore spiked steeply upward. After climbing the first few sun-soaked boulders it was impossible to go any farther. We sat down, water dripping off our bodies, collecting on the jagged surface of the rocks. Lonnie used one finger to smear the blood from her knee into the shape of a heart.

“Do you know how to French braid?” she asked. I nodded and she pulled out the band holding back her hair.