Poppy searched for the scar but gave up after a few seconds.

Next, Lisa pointed out the juicer and SodaStream water carbonator in the kitchen.

It came as a strange realization for Poppy to consider that there were many parts of Lisa’s home life and daily routine that were completely foreign to her, objects that seemed senseless and redundant, whereas Lisa would be all too familiar with the things in Poppy’s home. The duct tape that held the screen door together and kept the batteries in the remote, the stockpot that lived under the leak in the garage. Coupons and buy-one-get-ones. Lisa knew Poppy’s life inside out because she had once lived it, but Poppy would only ever have these curious glimpses into Lisa’s daily existence.

As they continued through the house, it pleased Poppy to notice that her children seemed either unintimidated by or completely oblivious to the wealth on display. Ryan and Alex made polite comments about the accommodations but seemed keener to get down to the beach than continue gawking at the house.

After the tour, all four kids changed into their swimsuits, and before they headed down to the water, Lisa gave strict instructions for Rae and Ryan to keep a close eye on Alex and Kimmy.

“It’s low tide and not much in the way of waves,” she said, “but make sure you’ve got eyes on whoever’s in the water.” She looked at Rae for a moment. “What’ve you got those for?”

Rae was sporting a pair of binoculars on a black leather strap around her neck. They bounced against her navel, a shallow and demure innie.

A bright flush appeared on Rae’s cheeks when all eyes in the room turned to her. She shifted her weight, popped her hip to the side. “For watching birds, Mom. God.”

Lisa put her hands in the air, a sign of retreat. “Forgive me,” she said. “I did not know you were into birds.” Lisa turned to the others. “They’re nice binoculars, though. I got them for Rae before the Keswick Horse Show last spring because our seats were so far away. If anyone else wants to watch the birds . . .”

Poppy said, “I’m gonna use them to spy on our neighbors.”

Kimmy stared at Poppy in wonder, lips back, teeth prominent. “Are you really going to do that?”

“Yes.”

Ryan carried towels and his snorkel gear, Rae took a book and her binoculars, and Alex and Kimmy took plastic buckets and shovels and goggles and a boogie board.

All four adults settled in the kitchen, where they could easily see the children through the glass doors that led to the patio and, beyond it, the beach.

Lisa stirred up a pitcher of sangria. She sliced apples and dumped them in, along with a can of mandarin oranges.

They sat on barstools and sipped their sangria.

Poppy said to Scott, “I like your thingie,” touching her own chin.

He turned to Lisa. “Told you so,” he said, then turned back to Poppy. “She thinks goatees are sleazy.”