The Summer of Good Intentions by Wendy Francis Page A

a beer. “Don’t mind me, I’m going to enjoy the view until dock duty calls.”
    Maggie’s head was suddenly in a tailspin, trying to do the math. Could they accommodate everyone here after the Fourth? Virgie would arrive on Wednesday. Her dad would be here on Saturday as well. Already, they had nine people sleeping under the same roof. She planned to put Virgie in the kids’ room, which would fill up all three sets of bunk beds. Tim and Jess were in the guest room; herself and Mac in the master. When her dad came, he would stay on the pullout couch downstairs. He’d always favored that bed for some reason, though Maggie found it stiff as plywood.
    But if Gloria came, that would change the dynamic altogether. Maggie would have to kick Jess and Tim out of the guest room and let Gloria sleep there. But then where to put Gio, assuming he came along? And Jess and Tim? In sleeping bags in the living room next to her dad? That was preposterous. The thought of her friend Gretchen and her sea captain’s mansion flitted through her mind. Surely, Gretchen had some extra space. But Maggie was loath to impose. What kind of friend asked another friend to put up her mother and her mother’s paramour at her house?
    No, her mom was right, Maggie could see that now. There was simply no room for Gloria and her special friend at the summer house. Somehow it surprised her; this house was cozy but had always had ample room for them when they were growing up.
    And what about Arthur? Her dad would be heartbroken if he saw their mother with another man. Should she warn him? Tell him not to come?
    Only one day into vacation, and already it was getting complicated. She felt hot, slightly dizzy, and went upstairs to change into her bathing suit. What she needed, she decided, was to go for a long, soothing swim. She’d help with the dock and then, stroke by stroke, swim away from the chaos. Somehow the right path would reveal itself, effervescent bubbles pointing the way in the cool, refreshing water.

Jess
    â€œCan I interest you in a strawberry smoothie?” Maggie snuck up beside Jess with a chilled glass in her hand. She set down a bowl of chips and passed Jess the drink.
    â€œOh, yes, please. What’s in it?”
    â€œVodka,” Maggie said, sitting down next to her, her hair still wet from her swim. “And a few strawberries, of course.” Jess laughed.
    After a good two hours, the pier was in—and Jess was spent. Their gang wasn’t in its twenties anymore, and putting in the dock was hard work. At one point, Mac had gotten the level, and anyone could see that the last two sections weren’t quite even. But by then, nobody cared. It was good enough. Now when she gazed out at the dock, she could discern the slight crook toward the end, where Teddy and Luke took turns jumping off. In their life jackets, the boys bobbed up and down like plump orange marshmallows in the water, while the girls drifted lazily on their rafts. Ah, summer .
    When they’d pulled up to the house earlier today, Jess felt as if she’d traveled to two continents and back since the last time she’d slept at Pilgrim Lane. She nearly cried to hear the gate creak open and see the cheery daisies on the porch steps, each clump blooming like multiple exclamation points in the terra-cotta pots. “You’re here!” they seemed to shout. It was as if the summer house had stayed frozen in time while her own life had been spinning out of control.
    Tim, of course, had forgotten to place a hold on the mail last night, and Jess was furious. But as soon as she stepped foot in the summer house, she could feel the tremors of anger floating up from her body, hot little orbs of light. Suddenly, it seemed silly to get worked up about a thing as small as holding the mail. Maybe she was overstressed, a point that Tim liked to make whenever she came down on him.
    Jess lowered her drink to the beach table,