their cousins for the summer.'
A little over a year ago, Sarah had become the guardian for our friend Patricia's two children after Patricia's death. Sam and Courtney were now both in high school and Sarah, who'd never so much as babysat, had turned out to be a much better 'mom' than anyone had ever expected.
However, a whole summer without them now? Sarah would go crazy.
'What cousins?' I asked. 'I thought Sam and Courtney didn't have family.'
'Not on their father's side, but Patricia's mother was married a bunch of times.'
'Only, as I recall, Grandma didn't want anything to do with her daughter's kids.'
'True.' Sarah took her foot off the brake in preparation for getting out of the Firebird and we started to roll toward the building.
'We're still moving,' I warned, opening my door and dragging a foot, like I was going to be able to stop the vehicle.
Sarah slammed on the brakes and I grabbed the buffering dashboard to keep from flying out with the door as it swung wildly. No passenger-side airbags on this baby.
Sarah set the parking brake, then looked at me like nothing had happened. 'You were saying?'
I had to think for a second before I realized we were talking about Courtney and Sam's family. Or lack of same. 'We agreed that Patricia's mother had no interest in the kids. Did something change?'
'Not with Patsy--that's Patricia's mother. But she has a second daughter.'
Wait a minute. 'The mother named Patricia after her self ?'
Sarah shrugged. 'Men do it all the time and nobody thinks it's weird.'
She was right. I'd have to give that some thought another time.
'So Patricia had a sister?' I asked. 'And that means Sam and Courtney have a blood aunt?'
'And cousins. A boy and a girl, wouldn't you know it? The boy is a little younger than Courtney and the girl is a year older than Sam.'
Sam, by my calculations, was seventeen and Courtney, fourteen. 'So how did you find all this out?'
'I didn't.' Sarah climbed out of the Firebird. 'The kids found each other on Facebook. They've been e-mailing or twitting or whatever the hell they call—'
'Tweeting,' I offered as I hoisted myself out of the bucket seat. 'Eric keeps telling me I need to do it, but I don't see the point. If people want to know what I'm doing, they can just call me. I have a cellphone and text messaging. As far as I'm concerned, that already makes me far too accessible and—'
'Do you mind?' Sarah grew cranky. 'We were talking about me. For once.'
That was a little rude. True. But rude, nonetheless.
'Sorry,' I said, biting my tongue. 'You were saying Courtney, Sam and their two cousins have been in touch by e-mail and Twit—'
'Yeah, yeah, that,' Sarah said impatiently. 'Anyway, they've been communicating about six months now and their Aunt Patrice—'
My turn to interrupt. 'Patsy bore two daughters, Patricia and Patrice?'
'And one son.'
'Don't tell me. She named him Patrick.'
'No. Bert.'
'After the father?' I asked.
'Who knows?' Sarah exploded. 'For all I care, they watched Sesame Street and he has a twin named Ernie. Now, can I continue?'
'Sure. Sorry.'
'Anyway, Patrice seems a nice enough woman, I guess, and they want Sam and Courtney to spend the summer with them on Cape Cod.'
'Cape Cod? Well, that's unobjectionable, isn't it?'
'I suppose.'
I didn't respond right away because I had closed my car door and was looking at the depot. This side, the facade that faced the train tracks, had a large plate glass window, probably for train watching. The boarding platform was to the rear of the building--the left side as we faced it--with the wrap-around porch ending where the platform began.
I turned to my friend. 'You've checked them out, right? You're sure they are who they claim to be?'
I was thinking about online predators. Someone could pretend to be anybody. In a well-publicized case, a young girl thought she was applying for a nanny job, only to be greeted at the door of a nice house by a supremely not nice man with a gun. She
A little over a year ago, Sarah had become the guardian for our friend Patricia's two children after Patricia's death. Sam and Courtney were now both in high school and Sarah, who'd never so much as babysat, had turned out to be a much better 'mom' than anyone had ever expected.
However, a whole summer without them now? Sarah would go crazy.
'What cousins?' I asked. 'I thought Sam and Courtney didn't have family.'
'Not on their father's side, but Patricia's mother was married a bunch of times.'
'Only, as I recall, Grandma didn't want anything to do with her daughter's kids.'
'True.' Sarah took her foot off the brake in preparation for getting out of the Firebird and we started to roll toward the building.
'We're still moving,' I warned, opening my door and dragging a foot, like I was going to be able to stop the vehicle.
Sarah slammed on the brakes and I grabbed the buffering dashboard to keep from flying out with the door as it swung wildly. No passenger-side airbags on this baby.
Sarah set the parking brake, then looked at me like nothing had happened. 'You were saying?'
I had to think for a second before I realized we were talking about Courtney and Sam's family. Or lack of same. 'We agreed that Patricia's mother had no interest in the kids. Did something change?'
'Not with Patsy--that's Patricia's mother. But she has a second daughter.'
Wait a minute. 'The mother named Patricia after her self ?'
Sarah shrugged. 'Men do it all the time and nobody thinks it's weird.'
She was right. I'd have to give that some thought another time.
'So Patricia had a sister?' I asked. 'And that means Sam and Courtney have a blood aunt?'
'And cousins. A boy and a girl, wouldn't you know it? The boy is a little younger than Courtney and the girl is a year older than Sam.'
Sam, by my calculations, was seventeen and Courtney, fourteen. 'So how did you find all this out?'
'I didn't.' Sarah climbed out of the Firebird. 'The kids found each other on Facebook. They've been e-mailing or twitting or whatever the hell they call—'
'Tweeting,' I offered as I hoisted myself out of the bucket seat. 'Eric keeps telling me I need to do it, but I don't see the point. If people want to know what I'm doing, they can just call me. I have a cellphone and text messaging. As far as I'm concerned, that already makes me far too accessible and—'
'Do you mind?' Sarah grew cranky. 'We were talking about me. For once.'
That was a little rude. True. But rude, nonetheless.
'Sorry,' I said, biting my tongue. 'You were saying Courtney, Sam and their two cousins have been in touch by e-mail and Twit—'
'Yeah, yeah, that,' Sarah said impatiently. 'Anyway, they've been communicating about six months now and their Aunt Patrice—'
My turn to interrupt. 'Patsy bore two daughters, Patricia and Patrice?'
'And one son.'
'Don't tell me. She named him Patrick.'
'No. Bert.'
'After the father?' I asked.
'Who knows?' Sarah exploded. 'For all I care, they watched Sesame Street and he has a twin named Ernie. Now, can I continue?'
'Sure. Sorry.'
'Anyway, Patrice seems a nice enough woman, I guess, and they want Sam and Courtney to spend the summer with them on Cape Cod.'
'Cape Cod? Well, that's unobjectionable, isn't it?'
'I suppose.'
I didn't respond right away because I had closed my car door and was looking at the depot. This side, the facade that faced the train tracks, had a large plate glass window, probably for train watching. The boarding platform was to the rear of the building--the left side as we faced it--with the wrap-around porch ending where the platform began.
I turned to my friend. 'You've checked them out, right? You're sure they are who they claim to be?'
I was thinking about online predators. Someone could pretend to be anybody. In a well-publicized case, a young girl thought she was applying for a nanny job, only to be greeted at the door of a nice house by a supremely not nice man with a gun. She
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