Joy sets their pace on the porch swing—as silent as ever, it rocks them back and forth with a steadiness worthy of a lazy afternoon. The front yard, while obviously not as picturesque as the lake, has its charms too: the flowers, the trees, the grass and gravel. It has the same comforting quiet minus the overt water sounds. The porch overhang blocks the sun, cooling down the area.

“I think I’m ready to tell you what happened now.”

Joy sighs. “Yeah, I had a feeling.”

Summer retrieves her phone out of her pocket and pulls up a bulleted list. When she sees Joy’s face, she says, “Oh, I made this to make sure I say everything right to you.”

“Efficient.”

“I get that you and Malcolm are a package deal—I have to accept both of you, and I do—but I’m looking for someone who really, truly loves me with all his heart. Malcolm might someday, and I’m willing to walk that road with him to see if we could make it work. We could really be something great, you know? But that’s not now. He has a lot of, um”—she pauses to check her list—“he’s very invested in someone else.”

“Saying ‘someone else’ makes me sound like the other woman, and I’m not nearly that notorious,” Joy jokes. “I know you’re talking about me. Please just use my name. It’s okay.”

“Sorry. Yeah. Okay.” Summer turns to face Joy. “When Malcolm invited me on this trip, I had an idea. I invited Fox so I had a reason to ask Malcolm to invite you too, which was kind of dishonest, I guess. I’m sorry. I just wanted to see for myself instead of calling you up and starting shit, you know? You didn’t deserve those things that Caroline said about you because they’re not true. You didn’t do any of that. I didn’t want you to think I was like her before you even met me.”

Joy briefly considers whether she should pretend to be surprised. Did it hurt to hear Summer confirm what she’d done? Not really. Diabolical mastermind, she was not. Fox knew something was off immediately and it only took Joy another day of observation to narrow down specifics. She appreciates the validation, though—Malcolm didn’t have anything to do with Summer’s plan, just as Joy said. He got roped in, same as Fox.

Summer consults her phone one more time, biting her lip. “I’m not crying. I’m not.” Her breath hitches but it’s like she says, she’s not crying. “I really do want us to be friends, Joy, but I understand if you don’t think you could ever like me. Because the thing is, it doesn’t matter, to me, how you feel about Malcolm. I only care about his side. His feelings.”