Finally, the path opened and the noise swelled. The reservoir itself was a forest lake with a natural beach on one side and a high promontory of southern yellow pines on the other side that kids climbed up in order to dive into the water. It was indeed as crowded as Sydney said it would be, but they found a place toward the back of the beach and spread the quilts.

Claire had made avocado and chicken wraps and fried peach pies, and Sydney had packed Cheetos and Coke. They sat and ate and chatted, and a surprising number of people came by to say hello. Clients of Sydney’s mostly, who came by to tell Sydney that their new haircuts gave them more confidence, that their husbands noticed them more, and their mechanics were unable to shyste them on their car repairs. Claire was unspeakably proud of her.

As soon as Bay was finished eating, she wanted to go swimming, so Henry and Sydney walked with her to the water.

Which left Claire and Tyler alone.

“All right, get ready. I’m going to tell you a story,” Tyler said, stretching back on the quilt and putting his hands behind his head.

Claire was sitting on a separate quilt, but she was close enough to be able to look down at him. This was a secret she knew about him, she realized. She knew what he looked like under her. “What makes you think I want to hear a story?”

“It’s either that or talk to me. I’m guessing you would rather hear the story.”

“Tyler, it’s just that—”