Arthur pulled her close to him and smelled her hair, which, like her clothes, must have smelled like lake water and campfire smoke. “I’m glad,” he said, although he didn’t sound glad. He sounded frustrated and resigned.

“Can we have another party?”

“No.” His voice was serious. “Sherri, I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

“What?”

He looked concerned. “I know this is awful timing.”

“Tell me!”

“I have to leave, Sher. I’m going to France for the summer.”

“The whole entire summer?” Although at first Sherri had been confused by Arthur’s apparent lack of responsibilities, she’d quickly grown used to it. Now it was hard for Sherri to imagine Arthur anywhere but at the house with nothing to do, always at her beck and call. She was shocked he had other places to go, other things to do. “But you just bought this place.”

“I know. I know. The timing couldn’t be worse. My parents are celebrating their thirtieth anniversary and have a big tour lined up for us. I tried to get out of it, but it’s very difficult to say no to my father.”

“What about Rainbow Springs?”

“Oh, that fell through for the same reason that Jerry can’t sell your building. We’re going to sit on it for a while, see if interest rates go down.”

“What about us?” She kissed him. “We just met.”

“I know, although it doesn’t feel like that, does it?” He reached for her hand and wrapped it around him. “You entered my life like a grenade. I’d like to think we have control over our emotions, but mine are running amok.” His voice cracked. “I know we haven’t known each other long, but I feel you in the very fiber of my being. You have no idea how much I’m going to miss you. No idea at all.”

“I’m going to miss you, too.” She was heartbroken. She was. So why was she also relieved? She’d miss him terribly, and she’d miss the cottage, but with Arthur out of the picture she could have her fun without feeling tied down. She figured that by the time he returned she’d be ready for him. “Arthur? Are you my boyfriend?”

“Even better: I’m your lover.”

It was the perfect thing to say, thrilling. To Sherri’s ears it sounded romantic, and ushered her into the realm of the kind of adulthood she’d dreamed of. He ran the tip of his nose down her sternum and kept going down, down. He hesitated, looking up at her the way Goldie sometimes would look up in the middle of eating from her bowl.

“Don’t stop. For the love of God.”

“First you have to promise you won’t forget me while I’m gone.”

She gripped fistfuls of his thick, dark hair and tried to push him down.

“I mean it. Promise me.”