Tully grabbed the pouch, dropped it in Kate’s lap, and then took control of the wheelchair.

The yard on this cool June night was stunningly, unexpectedly beautiful. Stars blanketed the sky and cast pinpricks of light onto the jet-black Sound. A full moon hung poised above the glittering distant city lights. The grassy lawn rolled down toward the water. Blue moonlight illuminated a trail of toys and bikes left on the side of the wide hard-packed dirt path that led to the beach.

Tully maneuvered her off the deck, down a wide wooden ramp that was a very new addition; then she paused. “Close your eyes.”

“It’s dark out, Tully. I hardly need—”

“I can’t wait forever.”

Kate laughed. “Fine. I’m doing it so you don’t throw one of your tantrums.”

“I do not throw tantrums. Now close your eyes and put your arms out from your sides, like an airplane’s wings.”

Kate closed her eyes and extended her arms.

Tully pushed the wheelchair over the bumpy bit of grass. There, at the lip of the slow hill that rolled down to the beach, she paused. “We’re kids again,” she whispered into Kate’s ear. “It’s the seventies and we’ve just sneaked out of your house and gotten our bikes.” She began to push the chair forward; it went slowly, bumping over the uneven grass, dipping in potholes, and still Tully talked. “We’re on Summer Hill, riding without our hands, laughing like crazy people, thinking we’re invincible.”

Kate felt the breeze along her bare head, tugging at her ears, making her eyes water. She could smell the evergreen trees and rich, black earth. She put her head back and laughed. For a moment, just a heartbeat really, she was a kid again, on Firefly Lane with her best friend beside her, believing she could fly.

When the ride was over and they were on the beach, she opened her eyes and looked up at Tully. In that moment, that one poignant smile, she remembered everything about them. The starlight looked like fireflies, falling down around them.

Tully helped her into one of the beach chairs, and then sat down beside her.

They sat side by side, as they’d done so often in the past, talking about nothing that mattered, this and that.

Kate glanced back at the house, saw that no one was on the deck, and leaned toward Tully, whispering, “Do you really want to feel like a kid again?”

“No, thanks. I wouldn’t change places with Marah for the world. All that angst and drama.”

“Yeah, you’re a real drama-free zone.” Grinning at her own wit, Kate dug into the purple pouch on her lap and pulled out a fat white doobie. At Tully’s awestruck expression, Kate laughed and lit up. “I have a prescription.”