Only one thing matters in life. Family.

WHILE THE GUYS were fishing, the women were organizing their new clubroom with the remnant furniture, lamps, and other miscellany from the goods they’d kept. The joggling board remained against the side wall beneath the shark. Though they hadn’t won the Instagram challenge—John had declared that they were robbed—photographs of them surfing the joggling board had been framed and put on the wall behind the board.

Pandora, Anna, and Linnea grunted under the weight of the large, ruined oriental rug but finally got it spread out in the center of the room. Though the magenta and blue still looked vibrant, the carpet was laced with holes.

“What a shame,” Pandora said, looking at it. “This carpet must have been magnificent in its day.”

“Shitty mice,” said Anna. “They chewed the fibers with their sharp little teeth to build their nests.”

“I’m just thankful we didn’t find any mice—or rats,” said Linnea. They had rented a machine from the hardware store and washed this carpet and three others they’d found in similar shape. “Let’s get the table.”

Together, they moved the large mahogany dining table into the middle of the room, then added a second, smaller table to its end to create a length of over twelve feet that would accommodate the entire pod. They’d also discovered a mismatched assortment of chairs—some wrought iron, some wood with embroidered seats. These were set around the table. Linnea had laid claim to the two vintage wicker rocking chairs but agreed to temporarily put them in the barn to create a reading corner beside small tables and lamps. Miranda’s large armoire placed against the wall was still crammed full of art supplies, and now board games as well. Gordon had purchased a refrigerator as his contribution. John bought two large rotating fans that when strategically placed kept the air circulating. Cooper and Anna had gone to the Goodwill and found a sofa that would last the season.

Linnea put her hands on her hips and thought that, all in all, their pod/fort was coming along nicely.

Pandora took a long breath, then plucked the blue rubber gloves from her hands. “I’m knackered. We’ve been at this for hours. The boys are out fishing. What’s wrong with this picture? I quit.”

“You can’t quit yet,” Anna protested. “We’re almost done.”

“I am done, my hardworking friend. Your kin may have been laborers, but mine were not. These hands were not meant for manual work. Look at my nails!” she cried. “They’re ruined. And I can’t even get a bloody manicure these days. I hate this damned pandemic.”

“If you’re done with your hissy fit,” Linnea said, walking to the fridge, “let’s all take a break. I just had a brilliant idea I’d like to share with you. Go on,” she prodded when no one moved. “Sit down at our beautiful table and I’ll grab some bubble water.”

“Put vodka in mine, please,” Pandora called out.

“I will if you buy some.”