Barbara said. We sat squinched together on a lifeguard chair, watching the sunset over the bay. The glowing red ball had just sunk below the horizon. Now layers of gold and rose and violet bounced back and folded in on themselves in the banks of low-lying clouds around the rim of the darkening sky. “They’ve organized group houses out here for years,” Barbara said. “Lewis showed us scrapbooks full of photos before Jimmy gave him a check. And Oscar owns that house. He must be rich as a quart of Haagen Dasz.” “You’ve got food on the brain, my pet,” Jimmy said. “I love summer food,” Barbara said. “Strawberries and ice cream and corn and tomatoes and ice cream and hey, did you see the fancy gas grill out back? Mmm, steak and grilled jumbo shrimp and ice cream. The whole point of cheating is to keep things steamy— speaking as a professional. I mean a professional counselor.”
