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a long dinner, if she had to keep from looking his way throughout the meal.
    Molly had slowly gotten out of Kip’s car. It was not air-conditioned and she was hot and sticky from the plastic upholstery. Kip was aflame with her own thoughts, bright and eager for something. College, probably, thought Molly sourly, hating Kip for having something to look forward to.
    Kip had a hard time pulling back into traffic. The car windows were all down for air. Molly was only a few feet away on her own front yard when Emily said clearly, “So what time are we all supposed to get there?”
    Kip ripped out into the street, motor roaring, taking chances with an oncoming truck, but sick of waiting. That was Kip for you.
    So there is action, Molly thought. And all of them are part of it.
    She flew inside, yelled to her stepfather, “I have to borrow the car!” and grabbed his keys from the kitchen counter where they were always tossed. She glanced down at what she had on. A very short, bright red skirt, a man’s shirt that was longer than the skirt, made flouncy in the middle by a huge metal glittering belt. Only a few weeks before Molly had gotten a very short geometric haircut, so fixing her hair was a thing of the past. Nothing could change it. She had makeup in her handbag.
    Molly ran right out of the house and drove even faster than Kip, catching her two traffic lights down. They both sat at the red. Molly slid her newest piece of jewelry on one finger. Maybe I should flash it at Emily, she thought. Even better, flash it at Matt. Wonder if they’ll recognize it? That would add to the fun all around, wouldn’t it?
    Molly laughed.

Chapter 9
    A QUARTER MILE DOWNRIVER from the Duet ’s dock was a hill and a tourist overlook. It was one of Emily’s favorite views and Matt routinely pulled in so they could look across the blue water at the bluff, the trees, and the white houses on the far shore. Tonight he almost skipped it because he was so upset with her, but decided that this night of all nights, he had better pause at the tourist overlook. Whatever few traditions he and Emily had, Matt knew he should try to celebrate right up to the moment of departure.
    So Matt parked the car, and as he set the brake he thought of the cars he would work on shortly, and the team and the things he would learn, and his heart soared. He got out smiling and circled the car to open the door for Emily. He took her hand in his, wishing she could be as thrilled about the job as he was. It blunted all his pleasure to deal with Emily’s anger. Her hand was—her hand—
    “Emily!” Matt said. “Where—your ring—how come—where is it?”
    She did not look his way. Her face was set in anger and she stared across the river. “It didn’t matter to me anymore.”
    He could not believe what she had said. He held her hand up to the light, like a banker checking for counterfeit money. “It matters to me!” Matt said. “I still love you. Just because I’m taking a better job doesn’t mean I can’t still love you.”
    She turned a second time, this time facing the road. Matt hated it when she wouldn’t look into his eyes. He took her arms and held her firmly, but he should have known better. “Pushing me around now?” said Emily through gritted teeth.
    “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, stand any way you like. What did you do with my ring? Stick it in your jewelry box? Leave it on your desk? Emily, it’s not some dumb pair of cheap earrings from a carnival. I sold a whole car to buy that ring for you.”
    “You should have found out about your job with the racing team before you wasted your money,” Emily snapped.
    He didn’t know what to make of her. Why was it impossible to do two things at once? Why couldn’t he stay in love with her and join the pit crew? “Emily,” he said for the hundredth time, “so a few months go by and I’m not around. It doesn’t mean I’m going to date other girls, or not come back. It means I’m going to learn a