“He’s—” Sherri paused, seeming to be choosing her words carefully. “He’s hard to get in touch with right now. So for now, it’s just me and Katie.” She stretched her arms above her head. She swung her legs to one side of the chaise and stood, wobbling. “I think I’ll wake Katie and we’ll walk home,” she said. “And pick the car up tomorrow, if that’s really all right.”

“Are you sure? You don’t need to leave. Or if you need to get home, you can leave Katie here and I’ll return her in the morning.”

“Thank you. I’m tired. It was a long day. But I’m sure Katie would be delighted to wake up here tomorrow, if you’re positive about that?”

“I’m positive.”

“Do you want me to help get them into bed?”

Rebecca waved her hand. “I might just tip them over and put blankets over them. They’ll be fine. Do you want me to walk with you?”

“No,” said Sherri. “Thank you. You stay with the girls. And, Rebecca—thank you. It was so good to talk.”

After Sherri had gone Rebecca went around the patio straightening the cushions and picking up the glasses and retrieving a stray cocktail napkin from where it had wafted into the shallow end of the pool. (She was definitely drunk; she realized this when she almost slipped into the water reaching with the skimmer to get the napkin.) The pool pump was running quietly and efficiently in its energy-saving night mode. All was peaceful.

It wasn’t until she’d covered up the girls and said good night to Alexa and was lying in her bed, waiting for sleep, that she realized that she’d spilled everything about her history while Sherri had said almost nothing. Again.

43.

Alexa

The next day Alexa was so jittery that she did a terrible job on her video about accrual bonds. It was so slipshod that she didn’t even post it: she decided she’d try again later in the day.

She was working at noon at the Cottage. Her mother asked her if she could drop Morgan and Katie at Theater in the Open camp at nine thirty—Rebecca had a meeting at the school.

When Alexa was young, before she understood that theater was mainly for the misfits, she too loved this camp, which took place completely outside, in the middle of Maudslay State Park. As she waited in the line of parents to pass through the turnaround line, where the counselors did awkward, theater-y things as the kids jumped out of the cars, she noticed that Morgan and Katie were two of the tallest, oldest campers here. They looked like full-grown trees among the small sprouts of younger kids. Alexa felt a stab of sadness for their departing childhoods. She almost started crying, thinking about how far she’d let herself get from Morgan lately.