Lindy tore off a bite-size corner of her sandwich.

Her mother watched them chew. “So! What are you girls up to today?”

“We’re supposed to make a model of a Greek temple,” Lindy said.

“We should go on a cruise in Greece sometime. Would you like that, Lin?”

“I guess.”

“I got us some new jeans.” Her mom darted for the row of shopping bags by the door. She held up a pair of jeans in each hand. One pair was marginally bigger. They came with a glittery pink belt.

“Mom. No,” Lindy said, covering her eyes with her hand.

“And . . .” She pulled out two white T-shirts with sequined flowers on them.

“No. Just . . . no.” Lindy grabbed a bag of cookies and set off up the stairs.

Jillian put the plate in the sink. “Thank you, Mrs. Cox.”

“Oh, please! Call me Kaye.”

“Okay Kaye,” Jillian said, then felt embarrassed. Did she understand she meant okay Kaye and not okk, which was just dumb? She could call Lindy’s mom by her first name. It suited her. But Lindy’s dad was definitely Mr. Cox.

Jillian ran her fingers over the sequined petals on one of the shirts. “They’re pretty,” she said, wanting to make up for Lindy’s rudeness.

“You think?”

“I like them. The jeans too.”

Kaye smiled. “Why, thank you. Sometimes I just don’t know with Lin, you know? It’s hard to tell.”

Jillian nodded, not sure what she was agreeing with, but just the fact of her nodding, agreeing with Kaye that she had a point, whatever it was, seemed to draw some of the worry out of Kaye’s face.

“Did you get enough to eat?”

“Yes, thanks.”

“’Cause if you’re hungry . . .”

“I ate a big lunch.”

“Did you? Do you buy or bring?”

“Bring. The food at school isn’t good for you, my mom says.”

“Your mom is smart.”

“She’s writing a book,” Jillian said. “Well, taking pictures and all.”

“That’s neat.”

“It’s about Willard Park. About the houses and stuff.”

“Nick could help her. My husband? He’s, well, you know, a house builder?” She said it as though she wasn’t sure.

“Are you coming or what?” Lindy yelled from upstairs.

Jillian had the urge to ask Kaye to come along, to help them make the Greek temple. She was pretty sure she would jump at the chance—but Lindy might not like it. “See you,” Jillian said, grabbing her backpack.

“Have fun!” Kaye said, her smile jumbo size.

Jillian made her way across the marble floor, up the curved staircase. She felt like Maria arriving at the von Trapps’ in The Sound of Music. The chandelier was on even though it was the middle of the day.