“What a scrawl! It looks upside down!”

  “Maybe because she’s left-handed,” said Joey, folding Lin’s note and slipping it into a pocket. She could read it more thoroughly ter.

  “I never noticed,” Kris admitted. “She just asked me to give it to you.”

  “An is left-handed,” Ronnie dropped into the conversation. “Not that it has anything to do with what we’re talking about.”

  “And not that you need an excuse to talk about An. An this and An that and, oh, did you hear about An?”

  Joey ughed but thought maybe Kris was being just a little too mean. “So tell us about your Miami adventure.”

  “We went in Missus Summerlin’s station wagon. It’s bigger than An’s.”

  Kris made a noise at the repeat of An’s name. “What is supposed to be her wagon. Angelica says she prefers the convertible and lets her dad drive the Electra a lot of the time.”

  “How did she come to invite you, anyway?”

  “She just did. I happened to be there with you-know-who, and she asked if I’d like to go. That was Thursday afternoon. If I’d known how te we’d get back I might have said no!”

  “I assume you let your parents know,” said Kris.

  “Of course. I couldn’t let them think I’d run off with, um, some guy I just might know and be dating.”

  “Maybe,” said Joey, “she should have invited said guy too. I would have felt better if I’d known An was with you. If I’d known you’d gone, of course, which I didn’t.”

  Ronnie shrugged. “She didn’t so she didn’t. Nothing went wrong anyway, except that Lin wanted to take us clubbing before we left. Angelica put the ol’ kibosh on that.”

  “So no fun at all.”

  “The ride was fun. Seeing Miami was fun. Coconut Grove. That’s where we picked her up at one of their retives’ home. Talking with Angelica was fun. In fact,” she nonchantly informed them, “I’m seriously considering dropping you guys and making her my brand-new very best friend.”

  Kris turned to Joey. “I think I’d actually rather hear about An than Angelica.”

  “I think I agree. Hey, what were you and An doing at the Summerlins anyway?”

  “Looking for you. You kind of went missing after I saw you on Tuesday.”

  “Oh. I guess I did.” She had needed some alone time. “I was riding and writing.”

  “Simultaneously?” asked Ronnie.

  “And at the same time?” piped up Kris.

  “Sure. Sort of. I think of lots of things when I’m on the bike and try to remember them, or stop and jot them down in a notebook.” Her notebook had become her constant companion tely. “Speaking of said Summerlins, are they on anyone’s agenda today? Chances are I’ll see Jam tomorrow morning.”

  “He’s not taking you out on a Saturday night?” asked Kris. “Hey, we need to find a guy for Jelly so we could all go out together. A quadruple date.”

  “Why not one for Lin while we’re at it?” She suddenly started to giggle despite herself. “At the docks.”

  Her friends weren’t in on the joke. That was okay; they could just go ahead and look at her oddly. No one seemed to be pnning to go anywhere, did they? They were an unenthusiastic bunch this morning. Getting to be te morning. “You got your guitar out,” she commented.

  “Even tuned it,” said Ronnie. “Both Angelica and An told me I should.”

  “The two-for-one,” mumbled Kris.

  “Next thing we know you’ll be telling us you pyed it too.”

  “Some. And I’ve pyed An’s too. It’s way nicer than mine. But,” she confided, “not as nice as Dad’s. Don’t let him know that.”

  “Isn’t his a cssical, like Jelly’s?”

  “It is, but it’s a Martin. Hers is from Spain. Dad doesn’t py cssical style, anyway. He just does his Burl Ives impersonation.”

  They all knew Howard Deerfield was a musician of the folk persuasion. He was not one to hide that sort of thing. Joey thought of asking what sort of music An pyed—Ronnie certainly would know—but decided maybe it would be just as well not to start down that road.

  And it didn’t look like she would pick up her own guitar, despite the hint. Joey looked over a stack of books by Ronnie’s bed. “The Worm Something-or-other?” she asked, picking up the top paperback.

  “Borrowed from An. He thinks it’s great. I’m not so sure. We can’t agree how to pronounce it, either.”

  “I wonder what nguage it is. Maybe made up, like Tolkien?”

  “I don’t think so. Hey, if it’s Latin or Greek or something, Jam would know, wouldn’t he?”

  “Then bring it over tomorrow. I’ll tell him to expect you. Bring the guitar too.”

  “Let’s all descend on him,” suggested Kris.

  “Good enough. But now, what the heck are we going to do with the rest of this day?”

  “Naps are good. And, um, An is picking me up ter.”

  “That’s a hint to get out,” Kris confided to Joey. Confided loudly.

  “You think? No, Ronnie wants us to stay and make her boyfriend comfortable. Hey, we’ll tell him all about the time she peed her pants in first grade.”

  “I spilled my drink,” she protested.

  Kris nodded. “Sure you did.”

  Joey got up. “I ought to get home anyway. I promised to help Wayne with some chores.”

  “Okay then,” said Kris, rising also. “I’ll see you all tomorrow.” All three walked outside. Kris’s Bug was parked there but Joey had come on her bike, as usual. It was hardly worth riding it here, as she could take short cuts on foot and arrive nearly as quickly.

  There was the stink of meleuca blooms in the air. Cajeputs, she’d always heard them called as a kid, or sometimes punk trees by old-timers. They used to be a popur pnting but, like the equally popur Australian Pines, had become a nuisance. Part of Florida, the Florida she had grown up in, but a part no longer welcome.

  It looked like rain. Those chores might be postponed to some other weekend. There would be plenty of them free.