This summer he’s been coming to the beach
every day. Which seems to make a lot of these
girls happy. One day last week, he got a leech
stuck to his ankle, and all those girls over there had
ideas about how to get it off. Everyone seemed to enjoy
the drama. You know? No, I don’t know.
I sure wouldn’t want to get a leech off a boy.
These Two Sisters
The lake
Listen to these two, paddling home
in their canoe, quiet at first, then a little
eruption of argument, another space of quiet.
Birds fly overhead and come to rest on the water
as the conversation begins again. So what if he is
cute, Abigail—I’m just asking what else you
know about him. That’s Claire.
Abigail replies, Could you call me Abi from
now on? Claire scowls, paddles harder. Why? I
don’t see what’s wrong with “Abigail,” she says.
That’s what we’ve always called you. A fish jumps
high in the air. Abi says, I’ve outgrown that name.
End of that question for now. Back to Brock:
Sometimes you just know things, Abi says.
Even though we just met, I can tell he’s nice. Plus,
all those girls who keep looking at him can’t be
wrong, can they? Abi smiles. Claire
is unimpressed. He lives near that house they call
Loon Landing, says Abi, paddling more slowly,
looking in that direction. I remember seeing
him at the beach last year, but we never met, she says.
Oh, is all Claire answers. Abi says, I don’t know, I just
like him—and by the way, you don’t have to go blabbing to
Dad about this. Claire asks, Why not? then adds, Maybe
you should be the one to say something … Abi. But Abi
only smiles as they paddle on toward home,
under hanging branches, into deep water.
New Running Clothes
Claire
Abigail—Abi—has always liked to get up early
when we’re at the lake, to go for a sunrise swim.
Last summer, she’d swim to Anna’s Island and back.
Not me. When we’re up here, I like to sleep in.
But this morning, I open my eyes just enough
to see her put on her new running clothes.
The lake is rough today, she tells me. I think I’ll go
for a run instead. I’ll leave a note for Dad. She goes
out, and two hours later Dad and I, and Pam,
are having breakfast, when Abi comes in, all smiles.
Dad says, Thanks for your note. Why is it signed “Abi”?
She says, Can you call me that now? I ran five miles—
first, down the road past Loon Landing, where I saw
someone I know from the beach, and we ran together,
all the way to the general store. We stopped for
a smoothie and I jogged back here. The weather
doesn’t look too good for fishing today, Dad.
That was clever, switching the conversation
over to fishing before Dad asks which friend
she ran into, or comes up with another question
about her name change. Do he and Pam notice that
Abi curled her hair and put makeup on her face
before she went out running? You look happy, Abi,
is all Pam says. I can tell you love this place.
Wind at Our Back
Claire
Whitecaps on the lake today, too rough
for the canoe. A good day to stay inside and read,
if you ask me, but Abi wants to go to the beach.
We could ride our bikes, she says. She doesn’t need
me to go along—she could go by herself and see
who’s there. But she keeps insisting,
Claire, you come, too. What if I don’t know
anyone there today, and I’m stuck sitting
all by myself? Right. That would be a problem.
I know what you mean, I say. I could remind
her why I know, but I let it go, and bring a blanket
of my own. We go fast on the way there, the wind
at our backs—it will be harder on the way home.
When we get to the beach, I look around. Brock
is at the concession stand, that group of girls
sitting together nearby. They look up as we walk
past. Sit with us, a girl says to Abi. She answers,
Thanks, and spreads her blanket beside theirs.
They were talking to her, and not to me. What
should I do? I don’t think my sister cares
where I sit, as long as it’s not with her. The
girls are talking to Abi now. I see them look
over her shoulder at Brock and two other boys
walking toward them. I’m glad I brought a book.
I find a place to sit in the shade and read.
I look around for Jonilet, but I don’t see
her or anyone else I know. Brock is sitting beside
Abi now. I’m sure she’s not thinking about me.
A Little Bit Closer
Abi
I like this boy, Brock, and I think he likes me.
When he says something funny he glances
at me, and if I laugh, he inches a little bit closer.
What if he’s thinking about kissing me? I’m not sure
I really know how to kiss. I’ve only kissed that one time
last summer. I wonder how many times Brock has kissed.
We Rest, Swim On
Claire
Wake up, Claire, it’s the Fourth of July! Abi says.
Want to swim to the island with me? The lake
is calm today. I could swim out there, but home,
with the current against me? Probably not. I’ll take
the kayak. You swim and I’ll go beside you, I say. Abi says,
You made it out there one time last summer. I bet
you can swim back by now. I’ll ask Dad if it’s okay.
Dad says, Sure, and gets the binoculars. I’ll go sit
on the dock and watch. We swim hard, float on our backs,
then swim some more. A breeze ripples the lake’s surface.
Abi, like a swan in her white bathing suit, glides
through the water. I struggle beside her—nervous,
but also determined. We rest, swim on—and I make it
out to Anna’s Island. We lie on the warm sand to dry,
then get ready to start back. I don’t want to admit
how scared I am. What if— My worry is interrupted by
TJ in his little putt-putt motorboat. He waves,
circles back, slows down, and shouts, Hey, you two!
Abi says, Hey, and looks away. Hi, TJ! I yell.
He shuts off his motor and calls, Where’s your canoe?
I answer, We swam across. I’m proud of that, but when
I think about swimming back … I’m not so sure.
Good for you, says TJ. That’s hard, even one way.
You guys want a ride home? He puts his oars in the oar-
locks, rows in to catch our answer. Abi: No thanks, we’re good.
Me: Okay! It’s perfect that TJ showed up just in time to give me
a ride back. Abi looks away, combs her fingers through her hair.
TJ rests on his oars, holding his boat steady, waiting to see
if we’ll agree. Abi finally says, Okay. TJ rows in and holds
out a hand to help us into the boat. Abi doesn’t meet
his eyes—which I think is rude, but TJ doesn’t seem
to notice. We sit together on the boat’s middle seat.
You guys going to the fireworks tonight? he asks. We were
planning to stay home, but that did not go down well with
the twins. I can imagine. We’re not sure, I say. Everything
in our house these days revolves around what happens if
the baby comes. He smiles. When will that be? he asks.
Any day, I say. Have you picked a name? he wonders. I say,
Maybe Pam and Dad have. I wouldn’t know. I keep talking
to TJ, he keeps glancing at Abi, and Abi keeps looking away.
Fireworks
Claire
Some people like to drive into town for the big fireworks,
but we always go to the smaller event here at our little park.
Pam and Mrs. Johnson baked pies for the potluck, and we sit
with the Johnson family, waiting for it to get dark.
Sadie and Sophia catch fireflies in a jar, holding it close
to Devon’s face so he can see their light. TJ doesn’t like
being around so many people at once—that’s why he never
goes to the beach. But he caught the biggest walleye pike
in a fishing contest, and he steps up to claim his trophy,
then brings it back to where we’re sitting so we can all
a minute ago. Dad looks around. Pam says, She wants us to call
her Abi now. I spot her, over there by her beach friends—
three girls, four boys. She’s laughing and talking with Brock.
TJ is watching. I think I know how he feels—he might want to
go over there, but he’s not sure how to join in that teenager talk.
Everyone who hasn’t seen Dad since last summer congratulates
him and Pam on their marriage, and mentions the obvious baby.
Most of the year-round people, and some friends who
have summer cabins near ours, remember Mom. Maybe
they think it’s good that Dad got married again—that
two daughters aren’t enough family, and he needs a wife.
As I’m considering this, I overhear Ruth Gibson
say, It’s good to see Andrew getting on with his life.
We’re waiting for the fireworks to start when Abi comes back.
(Big smiles from TJ and the twins.) Dad, she says, I want to go
into town for the fireworks. Okay? At first, he thinks she means
we’d all have to leave, and she’s asking him to drive us. No,
he says, we’re settled here. I like these fireworks. She says,
I don’t mean the whole family. I mean, some kids I know are going,
and they asked me to go. What kids? Whose parents are driving?
When would you get home? Oh, boy. What is Dad doing,
interrogating Abi like this, while her new friends (and TJ)
are listening to the whole thing? In the end, Dad won’t let her
go, and they leave without her, so of course she’s in a bad mood.
The twins snuggle up to her, and that seems to make her feel better.
Stormy Weather
Claire
Today is a rainy, stay-in-the-cabin, cozy kind of day.
Abi and Pam have a big jigsaw puzzle going.
Pam finds a piece of waterfall that fits, and Abi cheers
her on. Dad gives Abi his proud “you are growing
up” look—I’m not sure why. Maybe he likes how
Abi is including Pam. He gives my shoulder a squeeze
as I sit down at the table and then he flips a pancake
onto my plate. Outside the window, tall birch trees
bend and sway in the wind. Looks like it’s settling in
for a day or two, says Dad. I used to like stormy weather
when Dad and Abigail and I would stay inside
and make popcorn and watch movies together.
But as the day goes on, nothing seems right. I keep
looking for the missing Mom-chair, or reaching
for one of her favorite books and remembering
it isn’t here. Abi has a video that’s teaching
her to draw people. She refuses to return the looks
I give her when Pam says something dumb,
such as: I know! We could make ravioli out of leftover
lasagna noodles. Abi? Claire? Who wants to come
and help spread peanut butter between two layers
of noodles and cut them into squares? She can’t be
serious. I try to keep a straight face, but then
Dad asks, Claire, why are you being so grouchy?
Getting Closer
Claire
It’s been raining and windy for two days, and we’re
feeling cooped up—too many people in this small
space. Pam is making a blanket for the baby,
and trying to teach Abi how to crochet, when all
of a sudden, out of nowhere, she announces,
They’re getting closer. Is Abi as confused as I am?
Dad jumps up from the table—he seems to know
what Pam means. I’ll get the car, he says, and Pam
starts grabbing things. What’s going on? It’s like
they’ve made a plan to leave us both behind
if aliens attack, and now the aliens are almost here—
or something. Umm, Dad? I say. Would you mind
explaining what’s going on? I’m a little confused.
He looks at Abi and me and blinks. Oh—
he says, Sorry, Claire. Pam meant—she’s
having contractions. We’ve talked about this. You know?
I stare at him. Okaaay—not aliens—it’s the baby
who is almost here. Pam asks Dad, Where
did we put the suitcase I packed and brought from home?
He finds it in the front closet. Abigail and Claire—
he says, Pam and I will be at the hospital tonight.
I’ll ask Mrs. Johnson to stop by, and I’ll call you when the baby
comes. Abi looks up quickly and says, You don’t have to
The Johnson Family
Claire
An hour and a half after Dad and Pam drive off,
Mrs. Johnson calls and says Dad phoned her
when they got to the hospital. Why don’t you girls
come over here for supper, she offers. I say, Sure,
what time? When I hang up, Abi glowers at me.
You could have asked me first. She changes her clothes.
And then changes them again. And again.
Tries to cover up a tiny pimple on her nose,
puts on two layers of lip gloss. It’s just the Johnsons,
I remind her. Come on—the rain has stopped. Let’s go.
The minute we walk in the door, Sadie and Sophia
jump all over Abi, and Devon wants to show
me some animals he made out of sticks and stones.
Whatever was annoying Abi seems to be okay.
But when TJ comes in and says, Hi, Abigail,
her face starts to get red, and she turns away
to start playing with the twins again. Is this about
the “Abi” thing? Does TJ remember that my sister
changed her name? I say, She’s calling herself Abi now.
Sophia runs over and pulls me down to whisper,
TJ probably calls her his girlfriend. What?
No way. Did Abi hear her say that? If she did,
she’s trying to ignore it. Mrs. Johnson says, Claire,
could you help Sadie set the table? She lifts a lid
from something that smells wonderful, and brings
it to the table just as Mr. Johnson brings in a plate
of hamburgers and veggies from the grill. TJ pours
lemonade in our glasses, and we sit down to eat.
I love this family. We tal
k about the baby coming,
and Sadie blurts out, We’re getting one too, next year.
Mrs. Johnson shushes her, but smiles. Yes, she says,
your baby and ours can play together when you’re up here.
I say, You mean their baby. Pam and Dad’s, not mine
and Abi’s. She starts to answer, but then Devon spills
his lemonade, and by the time TJ helps him clean up
the mess, the meal is almost over. Mrs. Johnson fills
a bag with food she thinks we’ll like, and gives
it to us to take home. We don’t need it, I say.
They’ll be home tomorrow. And Abi says, We’re good.
But Mrs. Johnson gives it to us anyway,
and says, Call anytime if you need anything. I mess up
Devon’s hair a little, hug the twins. TJ shoots a glance
at Abi, but she’s halfway down the path. He looks like
he wanted to say good night, and missed his chance.
Shut Up About TJ
Claire
When we’re walking home, I say,
You weren’t very nice to TJ, and Abi snaps,
Just shut up about TJ! What? I haven’t
said anything else about him. That’s
the entire conversation. It makes me wonder
about what Sophia said. Does TJ want
Abi to be his girlfriend? That would be … different.
But since Abi is already acting mad, I don’t
ask more questions. Right after we get home,
Dad calls to let us know there’s no news
yet about the baby. How long does this usually
take? I ask, and he says, No one ever knows,
sometimes just a few hours, but it can take a whole day
or even longer. Are you sure you’re okay on your own?
We assure him that we’re fine. And we mean it.
At least I do. In a way, it’s fun to be home alone.
Abi goes into our room and shuts the door.
I think she might be sleeping, so I open
the door carefully, just trying to be quiet, not
sneaking up on her or anything. But when I go in,
I see something that is either odd or pathetic
or—I decide this is it—very funny.
My sister is standing by the window
in the starlight, kissing Benjamin Bunny.
Speaking in the Dark