“At least Mrs. Babcock came right out and asked.”

Del glanced over as they wound their way back. “Asked what?”

“‘What’s going on with them? Are they dating? Are they sleeping together? What’s Delaney Brown doing with Laurel McBane? When did that happen? What’s going on with them?’ I feel like I should’ve written up a mission statement.”

“People like to know what’s going on with other people, especially if there’s any hint or possibility of sex or scandal.”

“I can feel the eyebrows wiggling behind my back.” As if to dislodge them, she rolled her shoulders. “That doesn’t bother you at all?”

“Why would it? In fact, let’s give them something to wiggle about.”

He spun her around, locked her into a just-short-of-steamy kiss. “There. Questions answered. Let’s get some of that potato salad.”

It was easier for him, she decided, because he was easier with people. Added to it, he was Delaney Brown of the Connecticut Browns, and that meant something in Greenwich. She didn’t think of him that way—often—and she suspected he only thought of himself that way when it was useful. But others did.

He had the name, the position, the wealth. Their first real public outing as a couple served to remind her he was more than her childhood friend and her potential lover.

Sex and scandal, she thought. Well, there had been both in her family, hadn’t there? She supposed some people would remember and have that to chew over, and the same ones would speculate over cocktails and country club tennis if she set her sights on Del for that name, position, and wealth.

It didn’t bother her overmuch, and she wouldn’t let it bother her, she thought. Unless it reflected on him or Parker.

“Long thoughts.” Mac came over and gave her an elbow nudge. “Long thoughts aren’t allowed on national holidays.”

“Not all that long.” But since she wondered ... “Do you ever wonder what you and I are doing here?”

Mac licked icing off her fingers. “In a Zen way?”

“No, that’s entirely too long a thought. You and me in particular. The public school kids with crappy families and a bumpy childhood.”

“Mine was bumpier.”

“Yes, you win that prize.”

“Yay” For a moment, Mac studied her plastic cup of lemonade. “Speaking of bumps, Linda got back yesterday.”

“You didn’t say anything.”

Mac shrugged. “It’s not such a deal for me anymore. Plus, she’s living in New York with the new husband, and still currently pissed at me. It’s a nice distance.”

“May it continue.”

“Doesn’t matter so much, because I really did win the prize.” She looked over at Carter while he talked to a couple of his students who’d found him in the crowd.

“He is pretty great,” Laurel agreed. “Did we ever have any teachers that cute?”

“Mr. Zimmerman, U.S. History. He was cute.”

“Oh yeah, the Zim Man.Very cute, but g*y.”

Green eyes wide, Mac lowered her cup. “He was g*y?”

“Definitely. You must’ve been doing one of your stints at the Academy when that hit.”

“I missed a lot of the good stuff bouncing back and forth.Well, g*y or straight, he starred in several of my adolescent dreams. Here’s to the Zim Man.”

“To the Zim Man,” Laurel echoed and tapped her can to Mac’s cup.

“Anyway,” Mac continued, “you and me.”

“There’s Emma. Solid family. They’re legion, but rock solid. Certainly privileged. Then Parker. The Browns are Greenwich. Then there’s you. Crazy mother, feckless father. Never knowing if you’re going to be up or down. Then there’s me, with my father and his little problem with the IRS and his mistress. Oops, we’re very nearly broke and nobody’s talking to anybody. We barely kept the house, and my mother’s more pissed about having to let the staff go than the mistress. Strange times.”

Mac nudged Laurel’s arm with hers, in solidarity. “We got through them.”

“We did. And we’re still here. I guess I didn’t think I would be, not when I look back. I was embarrassed and confused and angry, and imagined I’d take off as soon as I turned eighteen.”

“You did, in a way. Going to school in New York, getting your own place. Man, that was fun—for me for sure. Having a pal with an apartment in NewYork.Young, single, and not completely broke in New York City. We had some interesting times.When we weren’t working our asses off.”

Laurel drew her knees up, rested her cheek on them to keep her eyes on Mac. “We always worked, you and me. I don’t mean Emma and Parker sat on their ass, but ...”

“They had a cushion,” Mac put in with a nod. “We didn’t. Except, we had them, so we did.”

“Yeah, you’re right. We did.”

“So I guess I don’t wonder about it too much. We got here, and that’s what counts. And look, you’ve got a very nice prize there, too.”

Laurel lifted her head and studied Del. “I haven’t claimed him yet.”

“I know I’ve got money riding on it, but I’ve got to say, McBane, why the hell haven’t you?”

“You know, I’m asking myself the same question.”

LATER, WHEN THE FIRST SHOWER OF LIGHT FOUNTAINED IN THE sky, Del sat behind her, drawing her back so she could rest against him. It was all color and sound and spectacle, with his arms loose around her.

However she got here, Laurel thought, it was exactly where she wanted to be.

LOADING BACK UP WAS NEARLY AS FRAUGHT AS THE INITIAL CHORE, but once done, Parker piloted them to a local club. At the door she passed Carter the keys. “Del’s buying the first round,” she announced.

“I am?”

“You are, and our designated driver’s money is no good here.” She glanced over as Mal came in behind them. “We’d better grab a couple tables.”

They pushed a couple together, claimed their spots. Once the round was ordered, the women moved off en masse to the ladies room.

“What do you figure they do in there, as a pack?” Mal wondered.

“Talk about us,” Jack said, “and plot strategy.”