“I get to tell! I get to tell!” Becky cried as she collided with Eric’s legs.

“No more school,” Lori gasped between heaving breaths, determined to win the verbal race as well.

“Lori!” Becky wailed, swinging at her sister with a fistful of crumpled papers.

“Whoa!” Eric commanded, sweeping them both into his encircling arms and pulling them down next to him in the grass. “First, both of you get your breath. Then we’ll take turns.”

They both nodded, grateful for the reprieve.

After a few moments, Eric released them. “Okay, now. Who wants to start?”

Becky, still fresh from the regimen of school, shot up her hand. But Lori, ever the practical one, said, “I get to tell him about the party. Then you can tell him about your report card first.” She shot Becky one of her I-dare-you-to-disagree looks.

“Okay.”

“Oh, Ricky, it was so neat.” Her blue eyes danced with excitement. “Mr. Wilson checked in all our books and equipment, then we sang songs, had refreshments, played games, and—”

“Yeah,” Becky broke in, her eyes wide. “We didn’t do any work. Not any, all day.” Her nose, liberally sprinkled with a light dusting of freckles, wrinkled with the wonder of it.

“Becky,” Lori complained, “it’s not your turn.”

“Right,” Eric said sternly, giving her a quick wink. “Let Lori tell me.”

“We played Red Rover, and Run Sheep Run, and Kick the Can. I broke through the arms of Kenny Miller and Peter Carlson in Red Rover.” She beamed with a broad, thoroughly uninhibited smile. “Mrs. Crookston said that I proved girls were as strong as boys.”

Eric nodded soberly. “I have heard that’s true.” Then he shushed her gently, as she prepared to plunge in again. “Okay, it’s Becky’s turn now.”

Becky’s head ducked momentarily as she pawed quickly through her papers. When she looked up, she was radiant with excitement. “Look, Eric,” she said, thrusting her report card at him, “I got all ones except in writing and spelling, and those are two pluses.”

“And I only got two twos, too,” Lori blurted, holding her own card out for inspection.

Eric took the cards, smoothed them out on his legs, and leaned over to study them.

“My,” he said finally, “you both did really well. Mom and Dad will be proud of you.”

The girls beamed happily.

Eric peered more closely, comparing the two papers, then looked at Lori. “I thought you and Becky walked to school together.”

“We do.”

“Then how come you have six tardies and Becky has none?” The six for Lori was not a great surprise to Eric. Her immense curiosity about the world caused her to stop and inspect every new flower, chase any errant toad, or sometimes just brought her to a stop in the middle of the road to daydream for a moment or two. But the discrepancy puzzled him, for Becky was always a willing partner in such delays.