The iron gates they were passing through now led to the Serenity Point Country Club, though no sign said so. Alice guessed it was such a big deal you were just supposed to know. Beyond the gates was a long, winding road made of crushed shells, cutting through a sea of emerald grass that stretched all the way out to the actual sea, the setting sun casting a golden light over everything. A golf course was in the distance. So were tennis courts and a croquet lawn, and a large clapboard house, the clubhouse, Alice was betting. There was a crew of groundskeepers, men in Bermuda shorts and polo shirts, swarming the grass with rakes and hoses and trimmers. Alice looked to Maggie, expecting her to ask Richard if the workers were unionized or provided with healthcare, her voice tight with anger.

But when Alice’s mom spoke, it was to say in a voice that was anything but angry, that was, in fact, filled with awe, “Oh, Richard, it’s so beautiful.” Alice was surprised, and then she wasn’t. Of course that’s what her mom thought, Alice said to herself sourly. Well, lucky Maggie, she’d be seeing a lot of it. Too bad her two daughters had to say the same.