Lucy
Matthew’s thirteenth birthday was the Friday before Labor Day. It was the last real day of summer. On Saturday, the lake families would pack their summer clothes and prepare their houses for winter. The end-of-summer party, with Lilith’s cabaret, would be that night, and on Sunday we would drive back to the sturdy houses that waited for us on Williamsburg’s orderly streets. But on Friday we were still summer’s children, and the day was open wide.
I’d asked Matthew if his family would have a birthday celebration for him. He said they would, but not until after we’d gone. They had too much to do before we left, what with cooking and serving the food for the party. I thought it was a shame that he’d have to wait to celebrate such an important birthday, but he said it would be better to
