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said. I sipped some water.
    â€œWhy not? You mean you don’t need to because you’re boobless?”
    I almost spat out the water.
    â€œAw, come on,” Aunt Shelby said. “So you’re a little behind in that department. Big deal. It’s nothing but genetics,anyway! Your mom and I were both boobless until seventh grade. And you’re going into seventh this year, am I right?”
    I nodded.
    â€œThen you’ll definitely need back-to-school bras. It’ll be fun! We could make an outing of it—first Winnie’s, then lunch at Lulu’s Lobster Shack.”
    â€œAunt Shelby,” I said firmly. “That sounds very nice, but I can just go bra shopping with my friends. At the mall. Val takes us all the time.”
    It was the truth, too. Val did drive us to the mall, like, once a month, sometimes specifically to go to Shy Violet’s, a store that sold all kinds of underwear things. But I never went on those days—I couldn’t imagine actually buying anything in there. Besides, I didn’t want to undress in front of my friends.
    I could tell Aunt Shelby felt disappointed that I’d turned her down, and for a second I felt sorry. But the thought of bra shopping with her was horrific. She’d probably discuss my boobless chest with Winnie right in front of me. In front of the schnauzer, too. It would be worse than a camp cabin.
    Although hearing that Mom was flat at my age—that felt nice to know somehow. It made me feel closer to her, in a funny sort of way.
    But at the same time, when I got into bed that night, it made me miss her even more.

Blueberry Pancakes

    EVERY SUMMER GOES TOO FAST, in my opinion. Even the kind of sticky summer where the weekdays and weekends basically just melt together.
    But one weekend stood out, the time Dad and Nate drove up for a visit, and we ate crabs and corn on the cob and I introduced them to all the cats. Nate wasn’t too interested, but Dad’s favorite was Escobar; when he crumpled a wad of paper and threw it across the living room, Escobar fetched it for him over and over.
    Before they drove back to Maplebrook, they pulled me aside.
    â€œSo how’s it going up here?” Dad asked quietly.
    â€œOkay,” I said.
    Nate poked me. “She’s not making you eat toenail fungus?”
    â€œOh, we eat it all the time,” I answered. “Fungus fondue. Fungus upside-down cake. Fungus à la mode.”
    My brother grinned. “Fungus pizza. Deep-fried fungus with fungus gravy.”
    â€œFungus sorbet. General Tso’s toenail fungus.”
    â€œAll right, you two,” Dad said, smiling a little. “But seriously, Lee-lee, if you want to come home—”
    For a second I thought about it. But none of my friends would be home for weeks, and Maine wasn’t terrible. I loved all the cats. Aunt Shelby was Aunt Shelby—but sometimes she could be fun. And there were times when her eyes lit up and her voice crackled in the middle of a sentence; that’s when she reminded me of Mom.
    â€œNo, I’m fine,” I insisted. “Really, Dad.”
    Another weekend Aunt Shelby took me on a seal-sighting boat, which I loved. We also went bicycling a couple of times with her “man friend,” Todd, and picked blueberries along the side of the road.
    During the week I mostly read Book Two of HiberNationand hung out with the cats, or I walked on the beach and collected shells and sea glass. I thought I saw Tanner once or twice from a distance, and I definitely saw Orange Bikini a few times. But she pretended not to recognize me when I said hello to her at the snack bar, so I decided she was a snot. And anyway, she was in high school.
    A few times a youngish red-haired woman wearing a UMass tee started a conversation with me as I searched for seashells. She told me her name was Yazmin and that she was studying marine biology in college. But she didn’t want to talk about the