Connor played Finn’s favorite playlist on the drive home,and once back, they raced inside to change for the beach. “Their turnaround time is usually ten minutes,” Connor informed me. “Late-afternoon snack selection is a serious business.”
I nodded knowingly. “The kitchen’s closed!” Erica told Bryce multiple times a week, usually after dinner.
“I’d love to see your grandmother’s photos,” Connor added, making my heart spark, and together we retreated to Summer Camp. I spread out the Polaroids and watercolors on top of our dresser and watched Connor’s eyes slide across them. “Wow…” He picked up the Aquinnah Cliffs painting. “Did she do this?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I mean, I wouldthinkso—my great-grandfather was apparently a pretty good artist—but I’ve never seen her paint. She does draw a little, though.”
Drew, I silently corrected. Anniedrewa little, since she could no longer hold a pencil.
“You haven’t asked her…?” Connor trailed off, his attention stolen by a Polaroid. The tractor photo, of course. Something in my chest twinged when he flipped it over to read Annie’s elegant handwriting. “Where’s ‘summer camp?’”
“I don’t have the slightest idea,” I told him. “But something tells me it’s notoursummer camp.”
He laughed and studied the photo again and then looked all too quickly back at me, this time with a glint in his eye. “You look just like her.”
“I know,” I told him. “You aren’t the first person to call me gorgeous.”
At that, Connor arched an eyebrow, but he didn’t seem to have any words.
I thought,Who’s tongue-tied now, pipsqueak?
* * *
It seemed like games were the theme of Wednesday, since Maisie and Bryce spearheaded a volleyball match with all the younger kids on the beach while Erica and my dad challenged Jay and Allison to a surprisingly less-than-competitive game of cornhole. (They sipped beers and High Noons as they tossed beanbags.) I read my book, ate a peanut-butter-and-fluff sandwich, and then collected shells with Sage and Meredith. “I wonder what Teddy and Finn are up to this afternoon,” Sage mused once we were back on her beach blanket, sorting through our haul. Meredith had run off at the sight of her aunt with a water gun. “They’re usually asking to bury Nick alive by now…”
I felt myself flush, never slow on subtext. Peggy thankfully appeared before Connor’s name could officially come up. Her brown eyes were bright under her wide-brimmed hat. “I hope you girls don’t have any plans tonight,” she said, and after Sage and I shook our heads, she instructed us to be in the upstairs den after dinner.
“Secretive as always,” Sage whispered to me, reading my mind. She winked. “We never know the game ahead of time…”
The upstairs den, I discovered post–shish kebabs, was up anarrow staircase that opened up into a panoramic room.Wow, I thought, even though I’d seen the rounded third story from the outside.How many surprises does this house hold?
Large glass windows showed off tonight’s waterfront slow sunset, gold light reflecting off Oyster Pond, and wood-paneled walls made the den feel especially cozy. A chunky plaid sectional looked like it could fit a dozen people, and while it was July, I didn’t mind the fire burning in the grate. The temperature had dropped with the sun. “Everyone over here, please!” Peggy waved us over to the couch then clucked at her son when he sniffed around the mysterious boxes on the coffee table. “Jay, you know better…”
“Granddad, what’s up with the hat?” Maisie asked, since Topper wasn’t donning his beach Stetson. Instead, he wore a blue-white-and-silver embroidered fez, similar to the one Daniel Craig wore while soaking in the bathtub inGlass Onion.
“It’s an old favorite,” he told my sister. “I bought it years ago in San Francisco. Cable Car Clothiers.”
“I think it’s fantastic.” Erica snuck up behind him so she could playfully flick the hat’s silver tassel. “Do they make a child version?”
Bryce would look adorable… I silently agreed.
Topper chuckled as his tassel twirled. “Perhaps you can check their Instagram.”
“Perhaps I will,” Erica lightly replied before Jay spoke. “Why are you wearing it tonight, Dad?”
Most of us looked at Peggy. Try as the Carmichaels might, no one had figured out tonight’s specifics. Sage hadn’t been exaggerating; Carmichael family game nights involved much intrigue and drama.
“Mom,” Beth said. “Tell us.”
“What a thoughtful way of sayinghurry up,” I just barely heard Erica mumble, the dry inflection sounding unlike her. I knew her sister got under her skin, but she wasn’t normally this sarcastic.
Had something happened earlier?
Smiling, Peggy pulled a blue Bugs Bunny–style sleeping cap from one of the boxes. “If everyone could please draw a marble…” She offered the cap first to impatient Beth. “Tonight’s game will involve plenty of teamwork. As your judge, I will explain more once teams are chosen.”
Beth pulled a blue marble, her husband yellow, and Sage red. Nick cheered when he drew yellow too. The more people pulled marbles, the more everyone seemed almostgiddywith excitement. I caught Connor’s eye; he shrugged and smiled amusedly, as if to say,This might be bonkers, but I’m here for it!
It felt somewhat strange to be participating. A game of Monopoly would’ve been one thing, but this—an unknown game—was another. Did my dad also feel like an outsider?
