Second Chance Summer

“We’re fine,” Gelsey said. Nora just gave me a nod without looking up from her phone.

“Okay,” I said. I looked at the scene for a moment longer before backing out into the hallway. “So… just call if you need something.”

“Sure,” Gelsey said. I closed the door and stood outside it for a moment, wondering if they’d just been quiet because I was there, waiting for the laughter and shrieking of a normal sleepover. But there was nothing but silence.

Without even thinking through what I was doing, I retrieved my cell from my bedroom and scrolled through my contacts until I found Lucy’s number, and pressed it before I could change my mind. She answered on the second ring.

“Hi, Taylor,” she said, her voice slightly wary. “What’s up?”

“Sorry to bother you,” I said as I walked down the hallway toward the kitchen. I pulled open the fridge door and saw that we had—in addition to a truly absurd number of bottles of chilled ketchup—cookie dough and Sprite. Perfect. “It’s just that my sister and a friend are having a sleepover.”

“Okay,” Lucy said, stretching out the word. “And?”

I thought back to what I had seen in Gelsey’s room, how sedate and utterly free from makeovers it had been. “And they’re doing it wrong.”

There was a pause. “How wrong?”

“They’re not talking. My sister’s reading and her friend is playing a video game.”

There was another pause. “That’s not good.”

“I know,” I said. “Clearly they don’t know what they’re doing. And I was just thinking back to our sleepovers….” I didn’t have to finish the sentence; I had a feeling Lucy would understand. Our slumber parties had been epic, and whenever I’d had sleepovers with friends back in Connecticut, I always found them wanting in comparison. I shifted the phone to my other ear and waited.

When Lucy came back on the line, her voice was brisk and businesslike, as though we’d had a previous arrangement all along. “What do you need me to bring? I’m not sure what kind of snacks we have here.”

I felt myself smile as I pulled open the kitchen cabinets. “We have more popcorn and chocolate than anyone could possibly want,” I said. “But maybe if you have any candy or chips?”

“Done and done,” she said. “Cookie dough?”

“Covered,” I assured her.

“Good,” she said. “All right. I’ll see you in ten.”

After we hung up, I excavated my makeup case from where it had been gathering dust on my dresser, since I hadn’t felt much need to wear any so far this summer. I had been expecting Lucy to drive or bike over, so it came as a shock when, not even ten minutes later, I got a text from her that read Am here on dock need hlp w stuff.

I hurried out through the screened-in porch and down the steps to the hill that led to the dock. Even though it was past eight, there was still some light left—it was one of those long summer twilights that seem to go on forever, the light somehow tinged with blue. I could see Lucy climbing up on the dock and hauling a one-person kayak up with her.

“Hey,” I called as I stepped barefoot onto the dock. “I thought you’d be biking.”

“This is way faster,” she said. She dropped two overstuffed canvas tote bags on the dock and dragged the kayak over to the grass, the paddle resting inside it. “Plus, no traffic this way.”

“Were you able to see?” I asked, as I hoisted one of the bags over my shoulder. Lucy lifted up a flashlight from the kayak and turned the beam on and off once. “Gotcha,” I said.

She joined me on the dock and picked up the other bag, and we walked together toward the house. “Did you get in trouble the other night?” she asked, lowering her voice even though it was clearly just us in the backyard. “I didn’t think I woke anybody up when I left, but you never know.”

“You were fine,” I assured her. I had spent a somewhat anxious morning, worrying that someone had heard us, and that I would have some tricky explaining to do, but it appeared that we’d gotten away with it.

“Good,” she said, with a relieved smile. We reached the front door, and Lucy followed me inside. Warren was in the kitchen, attempting to juggle three of the popcorn balls. When he saw Lucy, his jaw dropped open, and all three of the balls fell to the ground, one right after the other.

“No way,” he said, shaking his head. “Lucinda?”

Lucy shook her head. Warren had always insisted that her name just couldn’t be “Lucy,” but had to be short for something, and as a result, had called her as many permutations of this as he could find. “Hey there, rabbit Warren,” she said, and Warren turned red before bending down and picking up the popcorn balls. I had found the expression when I’d read Watership Down in sixth grade, and told Lucy about it, so that she could have some of her own ammo against him calling her Lucifer. “Long time no see.”

“Likewise,” he said. “Taylor mentioned that you were working together, but I didn’t know you were coming over tonight.” Warren shot me a questioning look, mostly, I suspected, because he didn’t want to have sole responsibility for the preteens.

“Lucy’s here for the slumber party,” I told him as I headed down the hallway, Lucy following behind. “You better not eat all the cookie dough!”

Two hours later, the slumber party had been salvaged. Gelsey’s hair had been teased out until it was twice its normal size and accessorized with glittery clips, and Nora’s was in two elaborate French braids. My hair had been worked on by both girls simultaneously, and so I had a row of three ponytails on Nora’s side and a head full of mini-braids on Gelsey’s. And we were all sporting dramatic new makeup, thanks to Lucy. When she’d arrived, she’d pulled out a professional-grade tackle box that Fred would have most likely envied. But instead of lures and fishing line, it contained the largest assortment of makeup I had ever seen. Gelsey was now wearing so much makeup that I was already planning the explanation to my mother if she came home before I could get it off her. Nora’s eyes had been done in a cat-eye style. She’d shrugged it off as “okay,” but I couldn’t help notice that she was peeking into Lucy’s hand mirror every chance she got, looking at her reflection with a tiny smile on her face.