I squint at her. “Diesel. My dog’s name was Diesel.” I swear Morgan just hangs around to make fun of me. “For your information, I don’t even carry my debit card on me. All my money goes straight into the bank for my education.” My parents can’t save for anything, let alone medical school. Someday I’m going to be a heart surgeon and patch up a little kid’s heart. A kid like Luanne.

“Whatever. The beach is free. And I heard they’re giving away ice cream to the first two hundred fifty people. We should hurry.”

“You don’t have to wait for me. Not if there’s a detour and Aunt Cathie’s tied up for a long time.” Part of me wants Morgan to hold back. Like a real friend would. Her parents are split up, so maybe we do have something in common, something she could help me with. Plus I imagine the beach at the lake, the white-winged sailboats skimming across blue waves. The sand will scorch my feet, but I can hop to the cool water and let it lap at my toes.

Imagination can sometimes be my biggest flaw. Probably I get that from Dad.

Morgan made fun of me enough in gym, windmilling her arms like mine when I tried the front crawl, snorting out water. But I can wade in as high as my waist without looking too stupid.

I squeeze my eyes closed, and I can see Diesel running and biting at the waves. Clunk — my heart hits my ribs so hard it hurts. I can’t breathe.

“Lookie, lookie. Here comes Mama!” Morgan calls suddenly.

I open my eyes.

Morgan smirks. The large flecks of gold across her cheeks lift.

Luanne sits upright in my arms.

I haven’t heard or seen the bus. But sure enough, there’s Aunt Cathie strolling our way, big hips swinging beneath a plain aqua dress, her uniform for Maples Manor. Round and soft, she looks a lot like Mom. Except Mom always complains about needing to go on a diet. Aunt Cathie eats what she likes.

Luanne squirms, holding open her chubby arms and wailing. I set her down, and she toddles toward her mother.

Aunt Cathie waves as she draws closer.

Luanne steps faster. “Ma, ma!” For a kid who just learned to walk last month, she is lightning on legs.

Her face glowing from the heat, Aunt Cathie still manages to grin at her little girl. As soon as Luanne comes within arm’s length, Aunt Cathie swallows her in a big hug, kissing her cheeks. “Mommy loves you,” she coos into Luanne’s ear. Then she turns to me. “Thank you, Naomi. Keeping Luanne at home with someone who loves her gives me such peace of mind.”

I nod. “She didn’t like the heat today.” I hold up Luanne’s empty bottle. “And that was the last of your milk.”

“Wish I’d known.” My aunt pats Luanne’s back. “I could have picked some up on the way home.”