It could hurt my chances of ever getting to paddleboard, is what it could hurt. I like Marjorie, too, but that doesn’t mean I want to spend the entire day with her. Especially because I am supposed to be relaxing by myself today. And I certainly don’t want to endure another one of those burgers or another hour of her insights on my family.

“She’s sure,” I say to Marjorie.

“Oh, all right, dearie,” Marjorie sighs. “Some other time. Although honestly, I’m not sure how much time I’ve got.”

She’s messing with me, I’m almost sure of it. Her eyes are dancing again with mischief. She probably knows I’m not talking to my mother.

“Thanks, Mom. I’ll see you in minute,” I say into my phone as the hostess leads Marjorie away to a table.

“Really? Are you coming over?” Nick asks hopefully.

“No,” I say. “Not until Saturday. But thanks. You just did me a solid.”

“You’re welcome,” he says.

There’s a pause. “I can’t find any condoms,” he admits then, glumly.

“I guess that’s it, then,” I say. “No tea for us.”

Maybe him not finding condoms is a sign.

“But I still want tea, if you still want tea. Do you still want tea?”

“Yes. I think so.”

“Then I’ll get the condoms. Somewhere. Somehow,” he promises.

“They’ve got to have them in the hotel shops. This is a hotel. People get busy in hotels. They’re going to need condoms.”

“I looked all over the resort,” he says. “There’s nothing on the shelves.”

“Did you ask the cashier?”

Silence.

“You didn’t ask the cashier,” I say accusingly.

He grunts like I’ve just asked him to do something painful. “Maybe if I got the right cashier? It’s hard to go right up and ask. There’s got to be a pharmacy around here somewhere. Or a gas station.”

I stop walking. “No gas station condoms.”

“I’m sure gas station condoms are just as effective as—”

“No gas station condoms,” I repeat firmly. “This is not a joke, Nick.”

“Yes. We’re very serious. I remember.”

“Let me know,” I say. “Seriously. Soon.”

“Okay,” he says, and I hang up.

The line to the paddleboard rental is even longer than it was a few minutes ago.

I sigh and head toward the back of the line.

But before I reach it, I spot Afton and Abby waiting in the middle of the line, both red-cheeked and sweating in the heat. Afton is, predictably, on her phone.

“I don’t know,” she’s saying as I approach from behind them. “We’re going to be here for a while, and then maybe go make those flower necklace things. Probably not until late tonight. I’ll text you.”

“Hey,” I say loudly, startling both my sisters. “What are you doing here?”