Mrs. Johnson offers me a chocolate chip cookie fresh from the oven. Mary Kelly’s home is like those in an old TV show, a mom in the kitchen with cookies made from scratch.

“They’re not homemade,” Mary Kelly says. “She scoops the cookie dough out of a plastic container.” Mary Kelly’s mom sighs and walks out of the kitchen.

When Tonya and Delia arrive, they act shy and quiet, instead of being filled with their usual noisy chatter. Maybe the Johnsons’ fine things make them feel like they’re on a different island.

Mary Kelly gives us a tour of her house. “This is where the brat will sleep.” She points to a pink room and the crib filled with lacy bedding. Olivia’s face flashes in my mind. I hope she remembers to go to the bathroom before bedtime.

Mary Kelly’s room is next door to the baby’s room. “I’ll have to wear earplugs at night,” she tells us.

A yellow floral Hawaiian quilt covers her bed and stuffed animals are piled high in a corner. The largest collection of Madame Alexander dolls that I’ve ever seen crowds on the top shelf of a tall bookcase. The lower shelves are crammed with books. She even owns a leather copy of Jane Eyre. A blue diary with a tiny lock sits on top of the desk next to her bed.

Mary Kelly is wrong. This is the brat’s room.

Bathing Suit Switch

Mary Kelly opens a dresser drawer and pulls out eight bathing suits—eight one-piece bathing suits. “Borrow one of mine,” she says, and it doesn’t sound like an offer at all. It sounds like an order.

Even though we’ve brought our suits, Delia and Tonya pick one of Mary Kelly’s. Delia selects an orange one, Tonya green. Mary Kelly looks at me, waiting. I ignore the suits on the bed, go into the bathroom, and return five minutes later, wearing my bikini.

A Thousand Miles Away

Mary Kelly’s father drives us to the pool. Dr. Johnson looks so different than Tata, tall and blond, but something about him reminds me of my father. Maybe the way he seems to listen to something else instead of Mary Kelly, who tells him about Sister Rachel’s thick ankles and enormous calves. “Her whole body is skinny except for her lower legs. What makes them huge like stuffed sausages?” Her father focuses ahead, not even noticing that she’s asked him a question.

“Dad? Why are her legs like that?”

“Hmmm?”

Mary Kelly snaps her tongue against the roof of her mouth and stares out the window. She seems to have forgotten we’re here. She turns toward us and rolls her eyes. “The absentminded doctor!”

Delia and Tonya giggle. But I’m thinking how Dr. Johnson’s head is so busy, he can’t see the man’s class ring hanging around his daughter’s neck.

No Tom Cruise

Mary Kelly’s Mike is no movie star. He’s tiny, with deep ruts on his red face from acne. He likes to stare at other girls. He likes to look at my belly button.