“With you where?” By the grace of sweet baby Jesus, she manages to keep her tone even.

“To the store.” Summer pulls out her phone and shares the downloaded map on her screen. “There’s a bakery not too far from here. If I tell Malcolm, he’ll say something ridiculously helpful, like ‘I’ll order one and have it delivered.’ ” She laughs. Her impression of Malcolm was spot on. Not good enough to make Joy laugh too, though.

Summer continues, “I want to pick it out myself, but I need a driver because that car is gigantic and I will wreck it.”

“He won’t take you?” Joy forces herself to stop leaning toward the water by holding the wooden dock with both hands.

“I didn’t ask,” she admits. “I was hoping we could have some girl time. You know, just me and you.”

Joy takes a deep breath . . . and launches herself into the water.

For some silly reason, she didn’t expect the water to be so cold. She stays under, floating and relishing the feeling of pins and needles pricking her skin. This is good. This is calm.

Joy hadn’t felt that impulsive in years. The longer Summer talked the more wound up she felt, and she just needed to find a way to release the suffocating pressure building inside of her. Immediately. This was not a drill. Abandon ship. Some girl time really took her there and so she . . . jumped.

Her lungs begin to tighten, demanding air. Guess that means she still isn’t part mermaid.

Something large crashes into the water next to her, assaulting her peaceful escape with a barrage of bubbles. Joy kicks her legs, breaking the surface—only to find Summer maniacally laughing next to her. “Oh my gosh! I can’t believe we did that!”

Joy stares at her, treading water. “Me neither.” The wonderous quick rush of relief she experienced begins to give way to numbness. She swims back to the dock and hauls herself onto it. After grabbing her shoes, she power walks back to the cabin with the sound of Summer’s wet, slapping footsteps trailing close behind her.

The sliding glass door is unlocked. Joy pulls it to the side and enters. It’s a good thing this place has hardwood floors because she’s still dripping water everywhere.

Malcolm stops putting the extra road trip snacks in the kitchen pantry. His expression shifts rapidly from curious to confused to concerned and back to confused. “Why are you all wet?”

“I felt like going swimming.” Joy nods to Summer. “I don’t know what her excuse is.”

“In your clothes?” Malcolm asks.

“The water, she calls to me,” Joy says, feeling partially dead inside. “My life, my love, and my lady.”