They are bundled up in their Sonnet sweatshirts, sitting with their backs against a giant log washed up on the sandbar, eating the food they packed in, which is, as they were joking last night at the food truck, gerbilesque.
“Incoming,” Ash says. “Hope was right. It’s happening. Caro, that guy you know is headed our way.”
“What’s his name again?” Hope asks.
“Spencer,” Caro says. They all watch as he makes his way over to them, walking across the sandbar with a cheery confidence Caro remembers.
“I’ve been sent as an emissary,” he says when he reaches them. He’s solikable, which Caro has to admit has always been her type. She was into the golden retriever boyfriend long before the term existed. “We’re wondering if you ladies might want to come over and have a drink and play cards with us.”
“That depends,” Caro says. “Tell me more about these guys you’re with?”
“Kevin and Tony Jameson,” Spencer says. “They’re both a few years older than us. Kevin actually married one of my sisters.”
“Oh,” Caro says. “One of the triplets?” Then she starts laughing, remembering. “Hey,” she says to her friends, “you’ll never believe this. His sisters are named Hillary, Chelsea, and Monica.”
“Seriously?” Ash asks.
“Yeah,” Spencer says. “My poor parents. They named the triplets back in 1996. They had no idea what was coming for them.”
“The poortriplets,” Ash says. “Walking around with those names.”
“Good thing your name isn’t Bill,” Hope says. She’d pulled on a beanie when they got dressed and, between that and the lowering light, it seems that she feels comfortable enough to enter the chat without worrying about being recognized.
“It actuallyis,” Spencer says seriously. “Spencer is the name I had to adopt when everyone in high school started making fun of us.”
Hope doesn’t buy it for a second. “Nice try, but I can tell you’re kidding.” There’s a touch of flirtation in her tone and Caro feels an irrational twinge of—jealousy? She smiles to herself at the ridiculousness of it.
“We wouldn’t keep you long,” Spencer says. “I have enough sisters to know that you don’t mess with a girls trip.”
“You’re kind of infantilizing us by calling it a girls trip,” Ash says matter-of-factly. Her hair streams wild and loose behind her, and she looks like one of her daughters—the middle one, Caro thinks.
“Sorry,” Spencer says. “That’s what my sisters always call the trips they go on. I didn’t mean—”
“We forgive you,” Hope says. “Right, Ash?”
“Yeah.” Ash gives him a wry grin. “But don’t do it again.”
“So is that a yes?” Spencer says. “Or a no?”
“What are you drinking?” Ash asks.
“What are you playing?” Caro asks.
“Beer,” Spencer says. “And poker.”
“Sure,” Hope says. “We’ll be over in a minute.”
Caro and Ash turn to look at her in astonishment. Hope is leaning back on her elbows against the log, her smile wide.
“Great.” Spencer sounds surprised. “Come on over whenever you want.”
“Will do,” Hope says. “Thanks for the invitation.”
“Youwantto hang out with them?” Ash asks Hope after he’s left.
“I think it might be useful,” Hope says. “Don’t you?”
“And why are you talking like that?” Ash asks.
