“Wait,” Roy snapped. “Just stay where you are. Watch the slide.” He turned on the spigot. After what felt like a long delay, the slide rippled from near end to far, and tiny threads of water arced from its outer edges toward its middle. As the vinyl glistened in the sunlight, Roy so wanted everyone to be impressed by the sight that he heard himself declare, absurdly, “It’s the yellow brick road!”

“Follow the yellow brick road!” his mother chimed in, and because the rest of them were shifting their eyes from the pathetic, wet slick of rubber to him as if he’d lost his mind, Roy shouted, “Waa-hoo!” and ran forward, throwing himself down onto the nearest end of the slide. To his surprise and great satisfaction, he slid all the way to the other end, like a car hydroplaning in a rainstorm.

It was far from a convenient gesture. He was wearing trousers and a sports shirt, socks and shoes. He’d been holding a lit cigarette, which was now a soggy nub between his fingers. But when he pulled himself up onto his feet and looked back toward the patio, they were all laughing and applauding—even Teresa, who’d never heard of the product when he’d come home with it and had doubted its qualifications as the main present for a nine-year-old’s birthday.

“So how about those swimsuits?” he asked, smacking his hands together and sending beads of water into his face.

Matt and Katherine and Joseph were already running into the house. “Matt,” Teresa called after them, “would you help Joseph get into his suit?”

Roy walked back over to the patio. Walter leaned into him. “Very clever. You haven’t been, uh …” He teetered his beer in front of his mouth.

“No, Pop. It’s not even noon.”

“Just asking. Well done, in any event. Sometimes a man has to play the clown to win over his audience.”

“I wasn’t clowning.” Roy flicked the wet cigarette onto the lawn and looked at Teresa. She gave him an appreciative smile. She handed Frankie to Helen and glanced toward the house.

“Pop,” Roy said, “would you and Mom watch the kids for a few minutes while they play on the slide? We’ve got some other birthday things to take care of.”

“Sure. But I really do want to get that present out of the car.”

Teresa walked into the house.

“Soon,” Roy said. “Real soon.”

“You are a stitch,” his mother told him. “I was just thinking of that Red Skelton impression you used to do. That pigeon person. You were so funny when you were little.”

When he pulled open the sliding glass door, he heard the commotion the kids were generating in the scramble to change into their swimsuits. A moment later, they were running past him on their way to the backyard.