“Yes!” Sydney grabbed Claire’s hands. “Please? You have to stop saying no to me. It will be fun. You’ve lived here most all your life and you’ve never been to the reservoir. Everyone goes to the reservoir at some point. Come on. Please?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I really want you to come,” Sydney said, squeezing Claire’s hands hopefully.

Claire felt a familiar anxiousness, or maybe it was a learned anxiousness. It was how her grandmother always acted at the thought of doing something purely social, as if she wanted to curl up like a cutworm until the threat passed. Work was fine. Claire didn’t socialize when she worked—she communicated. She said what needed to be said or she didn’t say anything at all. Unfortunately, this didn’t translate well into a social setting. It made her seem rude and standoffish, when it was only a sincere and desperate effort not to do or say anything foolish. “I’m sure you and Henry want this time together.”

“No, we don’t,” Sydney said, suddenly serious. “We’re just friends. We’ve always been friends. That’s what I like about him. This is for Bay. You packed the picnic, at least come eat it. Hurry, go change.”

Claire couldn’t believe she was actually considering it. She looked down at her white capris and sleeveless shirt. “Change into what?”

“Shorts. Or a swimsuit if you want to go swimming.”

“I don’t know how to swim.”

Sydney smiled, like she already knew that. “Want me to teach you?”

“No!” Claire said immediately. “I mean, no, thank you. I’m not a fan of large bodies of water. Does Bay know how to swim?”

Sydney went into the sitting room, where she’d left two quilts and a beach bag full of towels. She carried them to the foyer and set them by the picnic basket. “Yes, she had lessons in Seattle.”

Claire instantly perked up. “Seattle?”

Sydney took a deep breath and nodded. That tidbit of information hadn’t just slipped out. Sydney had told her on purpose. A first step. “Seattle. That’s where Bay was born.”

So far she’d mentioned New York and Boise and Seattle. They were cities farther north than the ones their mother had traveled to. Lorelei had gone due west after leaving Bascom. Claire herself had been born in Shawnee, Oklahoma. Maybe bad things had happened to Sydney and Bay, bad things Sydney still didn’t want to tell Claire about, but Bay’s welfare had been, and still was, a priority to Sydney. She had signed Bay up for swimming lessons, after all. That alone made Sydney a better mother than Lorelei had ever been.

There was a honk outside and Sydney called, “Come on, Bay!”

Bay came running down the stairs. She was wearing a bathing suit under a yellow sundress. “Finally!” she said as she shot out the door.