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water. When Aunt Lucy and Uncle Mark arrive with three-year-old Michael and baby Janey, Michael wants to swim with the big kids. He idolizes Eric and Drew, the “big boys,” and wants to play with them every chance he gets.
    “Be sure to keep an eye on him, will you?” Lucy says. “I’ll put his life jacket on him, but you still have to be careful.”
    “No problem,” calls Eric, floating on his back on an inflatable raft. “Send him down the slide and I’ll catch him!”
    “I can do it myself, Mom.” Michael shimmies up the stairs and lets out a squeal of delight on his way down the slide before he lands with a splash in the lake.

Five
    A FTER THE DINNER dishes are cleaned up and the guys have settled in to watch a ball game, Mamaw suggests taking an evening stroll. On the walk back home, as they turn the corner onto their street, Marcie looks up to see a shiny, dark blue convertible pulling into the driveway of the cottage.
Who could that be
? she wonders. The driver is a man, a woman is in the passenger seat, and a girl sits in the back seat. Getting closer, she sees that it’s Kaitlyn Swyndall in the back, and it looks like Mrs. Swyndall in the front seat, so Mr. Swyndall must be behind the steering wheel.
    Her dad has come out of the house and is shaking hands with Mr. Swyndall as the four of them return from the walk and come up the drive. “Hallo there, Hortons!” booms out Mr. Swyndall. “Out for an evening walk? We thought we’d take a little drive ourselves. I wanted to take my new toy out for a spin.” He pats the hood of the car.
    “It’s a beauty,” says her dad, with an admiring tone, although Marcie knows he isn’t much interested in cars.
    After glancing at Mamaw as though in silent confirmation, Marcie’s mom says, “Hello, Abby, Don and you too,Kaitlyn. You have perfect timing! We were just going to enjoy some strawberry shortcake. It’s my mom’s homemade recipe. Why don’t you come in and join us?”
    “Are you sure it’s no trouble?” asks Abby Swyndall.
    “Not at all,” says Mamaw. “I always make extra. Come on in.”
    The adults get out of the car through the doors and Kaitlyn hops nimbly over the side onto the drive.
    “Hey,” says Marcie to Kaitlyn. She hadn’t expected to see her so soon after arriving at the cottage. She feels a little unsure about how to act around her.
    “Hi,” replies Kaitlyn. They stand uncertainly, facing each other. Marcie realizes that Kaitlyn feels uncomfortable, too, but she’s not sure what to do. Seeing their discomfort, her mom says, “Marcie, why don’t you and Kaitlyn help serve the shortcake?” She holds open the screen door for them and adds. “You can make the whipped cream.”
    “Okay,” says Marcie, relieved. She shoots her mom a grateful look as the girls pass her going into the kitchen. “Here Kaitlyn,” opening a cabinet door she gestures to the dishes inside. “Plates are in there and silverware is in the drawer below. I’ll get the strawberries and whipping cream. The shortcakes are on the counter.” She pulls open the refrigerator and scoops up the bowl of sliced strawberries and carton of whipping cream. The adults have gatheredin the sunroom on the chairs and couches surrounding the low wooden farm table. She can hear Mamaw asking if anyone would like coffee.
    “You can cook? I don’t know how to make whipped cream. Or anything else for that matter,” says Kaitlyn with a laugh. “How many plates?”
    “There are eleven of us, not including the baby, so the three of you will make fourteen.” Marcie plugs in the portable mixer and pours the cream into a mixing bowl. “I help my mom and Mamaw in the kitchen sometimes, but I don’t do a lot of cooking on my own. Whipped cream is easy. It’s just whipping cream and sugar.”
    “My mom doesn’t really cook much. We mostly just fend for ourselves. Prepackaged stuff. I’m great with the microwave!” says Kaitlyn as she counts plates and silverware.