Free Family Reunion by Caroline B. Cooney

only so much evidence of sloppy stepmothering I wanted on hand.
    “Oh, Joanna hasn't done anything except visit cathedrals and castles,” I said. “Whereas Angus sold time-shares in a bomb shelter and almost became a millionaire.”
    Aunt Maggie was not amused. “Surely this sort of sick prank could have been prevented. Is it wise, do you think, for Charlie to be away so much?”
    Annette said she thought it was wise for him to earn a living.
    Aunt Maggie said she was worried about how the children were turning out, scattered around the world before we were even out of our teens.
    I knew the next sentence would include the word stability, so once again I changed the subject. “Annette is thinking of going back to work.”
    Aunt Maggie was appalled. Not only did we have to have a stepmother, the woman had hardly arrived before she was running off.
    Carolyn said, “I'm going to take Shelley to the pool, Mom. See you later. Bye, Annette.” She stood up. I did too, although since we weren't two feet away from the pool, I wasn't sure why we needed to say good-bye.
    “We put in this beautiful pool,” said Aunt Maggie, jiggling her glass to make the ice cubes dance, “but you know how contrary the young are. Still hanging out at the townpool instead of using this one.” She tried to laugh, but her heart wasn't in it.
    Proving her desperation, Annette said, “And what's happening these days on the school board, Maggie?”
    “We're debating whether to add another wing to the middle school or send the eighth grade over to the high school, where there's space. I'm very, very, very opposed to having the eighth grade in the same building as the high school students.”
    “Oh,” said Annette sympathetically. “Are the teenagers here in Barrington all on drugs or something? You have to shelter the little ones from their older brothers and sisters? What a shame.”
    I decided Annette was going to be fine.
    Carolyn and I went into the house to change into bathing suits. I was to sleep in her room, and Angus in Brett's, while Grandma had the guest room. Annette was sleeping on the sofa bed in the huge family room, where Daddy would join her on Wednesday. “Where is Brett anyway?” I asked Carolyn.
    “We'll see him tonight at a Little League game. He's a coach.”
    Her room was extremely neat. Everything was folded or rolled or stacked. All colors matched. All photos were in frames. “Do you like your stepmother?” she said.
    I don't like that word. She's not my mother. As for step, itsounds as if we're walking on her. “You mean Annette?” I said.
    Carolyn giggled. “You have more stepmothers I don't know about? That sounds like Uncle Charlie.”
    My throat got hot and tight, and my contact lenses scraped my eyes. I wiggled into my bathing suit and pulled my jeans up over it. I considered heading back to Annette and pulling the plug on this whole family reunion nightmare. If I said, “Annette, we're out of here,” she'd rent a car and throw Angus in the back, and we'd head for Disney World instead.
    Carolyn wanted to know if I knew how to ride a bike, since she realized that I had grown up in New York City, where it was impossible to have a bike. Actually bikes are everywhere in New York, but I skipped this and reminded Carolyn that her own father had taught me how to ride a bike in her own driveway. “Didn't your parents have time?” said Carolyn kindly.
    We cycled past lawns green from sprinklers and under trees so tall and leafy they made tunnels over the street. We turned right at the old brick elementary school, which had the shuttered look of schools over summer: hot and dusty, books waiting, chairs stacked. In the distance spread farms. Past the reach of sprinklers, the color of Barrington in August was not green. The color was sunburn, everything toasted. A field far off was like melted butter. Dust rose from highways.
    At the pool, Carolyn bought us hot dogs and fries from the concession. She slathered hers