Ryan lit the joint and lay back on the towel. The stars were mostly obscured by white-gray cloud cover overhead, but the moon, low above the water, was a magnificent butter yellow. The world grew impossibly placid and good after a single hit. But then a noise from the house startled him.

He licked his fingers and pinched the lit end of the joint to snuff it out and frantically waved at the dense cloud of smoke that encircled his head. He looked back toward the house. A figure was exiting through the sliding back door, and it took his eyes a moment to identify size and angles and posture in the dark, the shadow beneath the patio, but he soon realized it was Lisa. Her red hair was tied up in a messy, high bun. She wore a loose-fitting pink silk pajama top over capri-length pants of the same material.

She closed the glass door behind her and started to make her way out toward the beach, directly in Ryan’s direction, but she suddenly stopped and froze.

He’d been spotted.

He didn’t move. For a moment, she didn’t either. She squinted to make out who he was in the darkness, then she held a palm over a silently laughing chest. You scared me! she mouthed. She offered a friendly wave as she grew closer, and she sniffed the air.

Ryan’s stomach surged and hissed. Well, now Lisa knew that he smoked pot. Was it worth trying to persuade her not to tell Poppy?

Lisa said, “May I?” pointing down at the large towel where Ryan sat upright now.

He scooted to the side to accommodate her. She nodded to his left fist, which was clenched around the joint.

Lisa wore a mischievous expression and she whispered, “What’re you doing, putting it out? Spark that thing back up.”

Ryan stared at her. “Really?”

“I haven’t smoked since I was nineteen, with your mom.” Lisa brushed sand from her toes and curled them on the towel.

“You and my mom smoked pot?”

“Now and then. So are you gonna give me a drag or what?”

Ryan reached for the lighter and relit the joint. He took the first puff to start it, then passed it to Lisa.

She took a confident drag and a cough sputtered from her. She covered her lips with her fist to muffle the noise. When she had stopped coughing, she giggled and lay back on the towel, her skin milky in the bald light of the moon.

“That’ll do it for me,” she said, her smile so wide it looked like her face might crack in half. “I feel . . .” She paused. “I’m in a nest.”

Ryan laughed. His airy buzz was returning, after the fear of getting caught had caused it to instantly vanish.

Lisa murmured, “Hell of a sky.”

Ryan gazed up. The clouds were parting, and now many stars were visible directly above them.

Lisa patted the towel next to her, indicating that Ryan should lie back and enjoy the view too. He did. His hair was touching her hair.