Carol shrugged. “I don’t remember strange men falling all over me when I was pregnant. I felt like Shamu. I’m pretty sure I even looked like Shamu.”

“Maybe,” I said, “nobody fell all over you because you just didn’t run into the right killer whale.”

“Thanks.” Carol handed her cats to me. “Anyway, I’m happy to report that Dad has had a date every night this week. I made him take down that tacky free mattress to a good home ad, but I have to tell you, it’s still working for him. Print ads don’t die—I bet it’s still hanging on the refrigerator of every woman in Marshbury in his dating demographic.”

Carol stopped talking long enough to check her phone for the time.

“Well,” I said, “I guess as long as it keeps Dad out of trouble—”

“Okay, I don’t have all night. What kind of progress have you made with Johnny?”

“Johnny?” I said.

Carol shook her head. “Yes, Johnny. Remember? The hippie brother living out back in the trailer?”

“What a coincidence,” I said, “I was just on my way to check on him when you showed up.”

By the time Carol dragged me outside and in the direction of the trailer, my sister Christine’s car was crunching over the crushed mussel shell driveway.

“Unbelievable,” I said. “If this keeps up, we’re going to have to seriously consider putting in a parking lot.”

Carol and I both immediately started to sing, “They paved paradise and put in a parking lot” in our best Joni Mitchell imitations, which I had to admit left a lot to be desired.

“Pinch, poke, owe me a Coke,” we both said.

“Grow up,” Carol said as she pinched me.

“Ouch,” I said as I poked her.

Our younger sister slammed her car door and caught up with us. “What are you doing here?” Christine said.

“Um, I live here?” I said.

“Fine,” Christine said. “But I’m meeting Johnny in the trailer.”

She made a dash for the canned ham trailer, tried to pull the door closed behind her.

Carol and I looked at each other, shook our heads.

We caught up and grabbed the trailer’s little metal door handle and pulled. Christine was no match for our combined force.

Johnny was just coming out of the teensy shower, a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Jesus,” he said. “Knock, why don’t you.”

“Put on some clothes, why don’t you,” Carol said.

“That was actually the plan,” Christine said. “I’m helping him decide what to wear to dinner with Kim.”