Afternoon fishing isn’t my favorite. I could see Vicki and Andrea over at Marshalls’ float. Vicki was sitting on the float talking to Brad. I don’t think she even noticed I was back—she was slathering lotion on Brad’s shoulders. I wondered what Mom would think if she saw that. Andrea saw me, though, and called over, “I’m coming in soon.” I waved to her and started up the hill. After the brightness outside, the inside of the cottage was so dim it took my eyes a minute to adjust. When they did, I saw a note on the kitchen table. “Josh and I are at grocery. Be home soon. Love, Mom.” I was tired. I drank a glass of milk and then went into the main room and flopped down on the daybed. Something under the cover had a sharp corner, so I fished it out. It was Andrea’s sketchbook, and it was open. She had been working on a drawing of the wicker rocker on the porch, the one we all fought over. Underneath it was written, “This is the rocker where Mom sat and rocked you two when you were babies.
