“I’m Arthur,” he said, clearing his throat, standing and extending his hand for her to shake it like a real gentleman. “I’m new to East Troy.”

“I can tell.”

“How so?”

“By the way you left your fork and knife on the side of your plate to let me know you’ve finished eating,” she said. “I hope you plan to stir things up around here.”

Arthur smiled and stood to go, patting the bulge in his shirt pocket as he did. “I’ll see you later, Sherri,” he said.

Roberta raised an eyebrow at Sherri as if to say, Who is this guy? “Hey. I’m off in five minutes. Want to go to Booth Lake?”

CHAPTER EIGHT

The public beach was empty. It wouldn’t open for another week, not until Memorial Day. So far, only the high dive had been put in, and it looked strange out there alone in the deep end without swarms of people scrambling to take turns jumping off. The restrooms were still locked up, and the candy store on the first floor of the simple city-style house built into the dandelion-covered hill next to the beach was shuttered. All summer long, kids would stand in line after swim lessons, wet and shivering, with quarters clutched tightly in their little fists. They’d buy Laffy Taffy, Bazooka gum, candy cigarettes, or ice cream Push-Ups to eat on the bus that would drop them back off at the square. One summer, Roberta figured out how to insert tweezers into her mother’s piggy bank, and she loaded up with loose change that she willingly shared with Sherri. It was fun until Roberta’s father found out and whopped her backside with a hairbrush.