“Well, I don’t know about that,” Jeff said, laughing. “But it pays the bills. We’re in Los Angeles most of the year. It’s our first summer up here.”

I nodded, but was really looking at Gelsey, who was looking down at Murphy, who was scratching his ear again. I no longer knew anything about how twelve-year-olds made friends, and I frankly had never seen Gelsey make a friend, but I figured that in terms of trying to help her, I had done my best. “Okay,” I said, raising my eyebrows at my sister, “we should probably get—”

“Microchipped!” Kim said, snapping her fingers, as she looked down at the dog. “Maybe he’s microchipped. Have you checked it out?”

“No,” I said. I hadn’t even thought about it. “Do you know where they can find that out?”

“Animal shelters, vets’ offices,” Jeff said. “And they do it at the pet store in town. Doggone something or other.”

Kim turned to him, eyebrows raised. “How do you know that?”

“I went in the other day while I was picking up the pizza for dinner,” he said. “I was talking to the girl who works there.”

Now Nora turned to look at her father as well. “Why?” she asked.

“I was thinking,” Jeff said, even more energy coming into his voice, “that it could be a great character. Maybe for a TV pilot—think of all the different people she’d come into contact with.”

Kim was nodding excitedly, her words overlapping his. “I like it,” she said. “And what if she’s also a detective? Righting wrongs, solving mysteries on the side.”

Jeff turned to her, and they now seemed to be talking only to each other. “And the animals play a part,” he said. “They help her solve the crimes.” They looked at each other and smiled, then turned back to us.

“It was great to meet you,” Kim said. “Good luck with the search.” Jeff waved and then they both practically ran inside. A moment later, I could hear the clacking of the keys from two keyboards.

“Come on, Gelsey,” I said, as I turned to go. “Nice to meet you,” I called to the very unfriendly Nora, who still had her arms crossed, and who hadn’t once lost her glower. It was behavior I recognized, but I didn’t remember acting like that until I was at least fourteen. Maybe things just moved more quickly when you grew up in Los Angeles.

“So,” Nora said, grudgingly, when we’d taken a few steps away. Gelsey turned back, crossing her arms in an identical manner. “Do you like the beach?”

“I guess so,” Gelsey said, with a shrug. “My sister works there,” she said, a note of unmistakable pride in her voice that surprised me.

Nora glanced over at me, unimpressed, then back to Gelsey. “Want to go over there?” she asked. “I’m totally bored.”

“Me too,” Gelsey said, the morning’s adventure of finding a home for a lost dog apparently now forgotten. “There’s nothing to do here. My mom’s even making me take tennis.”

Nora’s eyes widened. “Me too!” she said. “It’s so stupid.”

“I know, right?” Gelsey replied.

“Totally,” Nora said.

I had a feeling I knew what the rest of the conversation was going to be like, so I just took the ribbon from Gelsey, who surrendered it easily. “I’ll see you later,” I said. Gelsey waved at me over her shoulder and continued her conversation, not even looking back.

I pulled Murphy, who was far too interested in sniffing every rock on the Gardner driveway, back to the road. I couldn’t help taking a little bit of satisfaction in the fact that Gelsey seemed to be on the road to making a friend, that my plan had been a tiny bit successful. I walked with the dog to the edge of the Crosby driveway, but the house had the look about it that indicated all the occupants were elsewhere—no cars or bikes in the driveway, nobody in the tent, the curtains drawn.

I steered the dog back toward our house, wondering what I would have done if it looked like people had been home. I wanted to think that I would have gone up and rung the bell, but I wasn’t quite sure. I did know that ever since the ice-cream parlor, I had been thinking about Henry more than I probably should have, since he was still mad at me (with good reason) and had a girlfriend. But I couldn’t help it.

When we reached the driveway, Murphy no longer needed to be pulled. Instead, he started running ahead, straining on the makeshift leash. I tied him up to the porch steps and walked into the screened-in porch, where my father was sitting in his normal dinner spot, frowning at his laptop, and Warren was reading a textbook, his legs extended in front of him on a second chair.

“Hey,” Warren said, looking up from his book after carefully marking his place with a sticky flag. He half-stood and peered out to the driveway. “What is that?” he asked, and I could hear a note of panic in his voice. “Why is there a dog there?”

“It’s nothing to worry about,” I assured my brother, as my dad shot me a tiny smile, then looked back at his laptop before Warren could see. “He’s pretty much the world’s least frightening dog. Seriously.”

“Right,” Warren said, nodding like this was no big deal, but I noticed he was keeping an eye on the porch. He shifted his chair a few feet away from the door, in a move I’m sure he thought was nonchalant. “Sure.”

“No owner?” my dad asked.

“Not next door, at least,” I said. “But we met the neighbors. There’s a girl there Gelsey’s age.”

“Wonderful,” my dad said with a smile. “But what about the canine?”

“I was going to bring him to the pet store,” I said. “See if he’s microchipped.”

“Good thinking,” he said with an approving nod, and I wondered if I should actually tell him it was our screenwriter neighbor’s idea, but decided to just let it go. “Son,” he said, turning to Warren, “didn’t you say that you wanted to go to the library?”

Warren cleared his throat and cast another glance at the porch. “I did mention that,” he said. “But upon further consideration, I think that I can—”

“Oh, just come,” I said. “I’ll keep the dog away from you. I promise.”

“It has nothing to do with that,” Warren muttered, nevertheless turning a bright red that nearly matched his polo shirt. “I’ll just go and get my wallet.” He headed into the house and my dad smiled at me over his laptop.