Protecting Libby, she said, “My bad. Ditzy Alice strikes again.”

Nick was pulling out his wallet. “How much will this set me back?”

“Ten dollars for you and Lucy’s free. Any drinks?”

“I’ll have a pale ale. Lucy-Goose, do you want some lemonade?”

The little girl’s brown eyes—so much like her father’s—widened into circles of wonder. Alice knew Libby was anti all sugary drinks, having heard her sister’s dissertation on the topic many times. Water was always the default choice of beverage for the children when they were out.

“Can I have lemonade?” Lucy breathed out, anticipation making her tremble.

Nick tapped his nose. “It will be our secret.”

Alice laughed. “Good luck with that. She’ll break the moment she sees Libby.”

Nick gave a wry smile. “Yeah, you’re right. No such thing as secrets in this family or this town.”

“You’re on green three. Ted’s the man if you need a quick lesson.”

“Great. Oh, and while I think of it, can you be at the marina at 8:00 in the morning? I’ve got a couple of quick turnarounds and you’re my best cleaner.”

Alice knew why her brother-in-law was turning on his legendary charm, even though she was grateful for the work. “Josie busy, is she?”

“You got me. But, seriously, Al, you do a much better job. The clients are mentioning how clean the boats are on TripAdvisor.”

“Dad taught me well.”

“Catch you at dinner.”

Alice nodded and as they walked away she typed into the spreadsheet the amounts she’d taken for the game and the drinks. She had a flurry of arrivals and was kept busy counting in the borrowed bowls, noting down the free greens and handing out flyers about the upcoming Australia Day carnival. Just as the rush eased, her phone buzzed and a notification appeared on the multicolored heart-shaped dating app she’d parted with some precious money to use. Hoping it was from one of the men she’d contacted, she was opening it when she heard a sharp whistle followed by, “Hunter!” The shout made her look up.

It took her a second to realize the yelling man wasn’t calling her surname, but calling to a kid.

“Hunter! Get down!”

A boy, who looked about nine, paused halfway up the cyclone fence before his shoulders drooped in resignation. He jumped down and sheepishly made his way back to his father.

“That one’s full of beans,” Rod commented drily.

“It can be boring waiting for your turn.” Alice remembered long games of Scrabble where Karen, Peter and Libby took forever to create their words and how she quickly lost interest in the game. It didn’t help that she lacked the competitive spirit that drove the rest of her family. She’d have preferred to be drawing.