“If we had a fire pit, we could cook hot dogs and marshmallows.”

“We don’t have one, and you’re not building a fire.”

“If we could use Ollie’s dad’s camp stove—”

“And again, no. Maybe double digits. Maybe when you’re ten. You want dogs, I’ll make them inside.”

“Not the same. We’ll eat the pizza, like we said.”

“Good.”

“We can get hot dogs when we go to the ball game Saturday night.”

Something else that took him back. A warm summer night, baseball, sitting so close to the minor league players you almost felt like you stood on the diamond.

He stopped, ruffled his son’s hair. “Hot dogs galore.”

“And nachos. And fries.”

“You’re making me hungry. I think we’ve got it, kid. Let’s get the air mattress inside.”

“Cowboys slept on the ground.”

“You want to sleep on the ground?”

“No. I’m not a cowboy.” Bradley did a belly slide inside the tent, onto the mattress. “But we can stay up all night if we want. You said.”

“That’s right. But you don’t leave the yard.”

“I know, I know.”

So had he, Raylan thought, and still he and Spencer and Mick and Nate had snuck off for a midnight hike through the woods. Scared themselves stupid, he recalled. And Spencer had tripped, scraped up his shin, which bled like a son of a bitch for a while.

Good times.

“Tenting tonight.” Monroe sang over the fence.

“Ancient tent. They get rowdy, open a window and throw something at them.”

In the way of friends and neighbors they’d become, Monroe hopped the fence, then reached down to pop Phineas over.

They all stood, studying the tent.

“Bats come out at night,” Phineas said helpfully. “But they won’t bother you. They want bugs.”

“Bats?” Bradley repeated.

“You like Batman. You could look for bats. Can I shoot the basketball?”

“Sure.” Raylan watched the boy walk over, retrieve the ball, step back, shoot.

Swish.

“Every time.” He could only shake his head.

“Boy’s got skills. You got your ghost stories lined up?” Monroe asked Bradley.

“I got a real good one.”

“Ghosts are—maybe—people who get caught for a minute in the time and space contin—What is it?”

“Continuum,” Monroe supplied.

“Continuum,” Phineas said.

Swish.

“Like Star Trek?”

“I like Star Trek.” Phineas glanced back at Bradley before he swished again. “They boldly go where no one has gone before. That’s what I’m going to do. I like Spock best.”

“Shocker.” Raylan had to laugh.

And Sadie let out a woof.

“Girls must be back.” Raylan checked the time. “Want a beer?”

“I could get behind that.”

“Ginger ale, Phin?”

“I like ginger ale, thank you. Ale’s like beer, but ginger ale isn’t.”

Swish.

Raylan just shook his head again. “We’re getting pizza later if you want in on that.”

“Pizza’s never wrong. I’ll check with the boss, but it sounds good to me. So happens we’ve got the makings for ice cream sundaes.”

“With whipped cream?” Bradley demanded.

Monroe let out a snort. “It ain’t no sundae without whipped cream, son, it’s just naked ice cream.”

“Hold that thought.” Raylan went in to get the drinks and see how the ladies had fared.

Once inside, he saw Adrian and Mariah hauling in a load of shopping bags.

“Wow. Looks like success.” And, he noted, Adrian didn’t appear to be pale, shaken, or glassy-eyed.

“See my new sandals, Daddy!” Mariah balanced on one foot to show off bright purple sandals with a strap of pink-and-white flowers. “And I got a white pair, and flip-flops—blue ones with a butterfly and purple ones with flowers—and slides and I got to pick out sneakers from what Adrian makes and she’s going to give them to me.”

“Another wow. By my math that’s six pairs of shoes.”

Adrian set down the two bags she carried. “And your point?”

“And I got shorts and dresses and tops and skorts—”

As his daughter rattled off more, he contemplated the fact that he was an adult man who knew what skorts were.

“I tried everything on, and everything is perfect! And we had lunch in a bistro, and I had bubble water in a wineglass. Then we got mani-pedis. I got purple on my toes to match my new sandals and pink on my fingers.”

“I see. Nice.”

“I’m going to take all my new shoes up and put them away.” She turned to wrap around Adrian. “I loved shopping with you. I had the best time ever.”

“Me, too.”

Mariah bolted up the stairs, two shopping bags banging.

“Two more bags in the car. I’ll get them, since I know which is which.”

“Wait. Two more? She’s this big. How many this-big clothes fit in six bags?”

“Be grateful I bought you some time on getting her ears pierced.”

“What? Huh? What!”

“You owe me,” she said and went back out.

He followed her. “She’s six.”

“She’ll be seven in just a few months, as she pointed out, firmly, when we ran into one of her friends in the salon who’d just gotten hers done.” Adrian retrieved the two bags, passed them to Raylan. “You’ve got a battle coming.”

He didn’t want to think about it. He did, however, study the number of shopping bags still in the car. “Those are yours.”

“All but this.” She plucked out one more. “Which is, at your daughter’s insistence—and sweetly—new bathing suits, rash guards, and slides for you and for Bradley. Some of that was altruistic,” she continued. “And some, the lion’s share, was so you won’t embarrass us girls at the beach.”

Adrian shut the car door. “I’ve been warned you and Bradley wear clothes that don’t match, even to the point of wearing red trunks with a purple rash guard. It was difficult for us to enjoy our lunch after that, but we put it aside out of pity for you.”

“You enjoyed all this.”

“I have to use a cattle prod to get Teesha to shop for anything but absolute essentials. Maya likes to shop. But Mo? She’s a shopping goddess. I stand in awe.”

“While you’re standing in all that awe, want some wine?”

“I should follow the teachings of the goddess and go put my things away. But I could have a glass of wine first.”

“Have more.” He shifted the bags to one hand so he could take hers. “Bradley’s having a couple friends over to sleep in the tent in the backyard.”

“In a tent in the yard? Why?”

“Girls.” With a shake of his head, he led her back toward the house. “Teesha, Monroe, and the kids are going to come over for dinner. We’re having pizza delivered. And there’s a rumor of ice cream sundaes. Stay.”