“So this is a wake-and-bake situation,” says Penny.
“It just—everything seems so much brighter.” Pfeff grins.
“God, they’re delinquents,” says Penny.
She stands and shrugs off her flannel, then jumps into the sea. Major pulls off his sweatshirt and does the same. “Oh hell,” he shouts when he surfaces. “So cold.”
“It always is,” says Penny. “It’s the stupid ocean, city boy.”
I watch them paddle around for a minute.
“You going in?” asks Pfeff.
“Too chilly this morning.”
He nods. We sit in silence. “Hey, Carrie,” says Pfeff, finally. “Can I tell you a story?”
“Yeah. All right.”
“Well. Once upon a time, Baby Lawrence Pfefferman, that’s me, was given his dad’s name, which was his grandfather’s name. So I’m Lawrence the third. And they called me Lor, ’cause my dad was Larry and my grandad was Lawrence. And that was the idea, you see? That I would be like them.”
“Okay.”
“So. Lawrence the first went to Amherst and became a lawyer. And Larry went to Amherst and became a lawyer. And when Baby Lor got big, they wanted him to go to Amherst.”
“And become a lawyer.”
“Well, they’re open to a few other professions. But that’s the general idea.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Well,” says Pfeff, “you’ve made it pretty clear that you think I’m a butthead.”
I shrug. I do think that. But I still find him magical, and funny. I still want to touch him any time he’s this close to me.
“There are extenuating circumstances,” he adds.
“Did Sybelle tie you up so you couldn’t get to the dock in Edgartown?” I ask. “Because ‘I decided to spend the afternoon fornicating in a historic landmark house’ is not really an extenuating circumstance.”
He laughs. “That’s not it. I just— Look. I’m a bogus student.”
“So?”
“I don’t like school. I want to—I don’t know, I want to travel. I’d like to go to Mexico or Italy, and learn the language, and just meet people. I would get off on eating some nice food, hanging out with friends. It’s not that I don’t want to work. I don’t mind work, actually. Last year I bussed tables at this burrito bar on weekends, and the days were long, and people yelled at me, but I was into it—the scene at the restaurant, the rush of customers.”
At this point, Penny climbs wetly up the ladder, followed by Major. “Oh my god,” she says. “You don’t need to be high for that to be an amazing start to your day.” She grabs a towel and turns to me. “I feel like Supergirl now. Or Wonder Woman or whatever. Can I have your sweater?” I take it off and give it to her. She puts it on, wraps her towel around her waist, and picks up my thermos of coffee. “Why are we not doing this early morning thing?” she asks me. “Why did we have to wait for these bozos to think of it?”
“I need breakfast, now,” says Major. “Can we go back?”
“Oh!” Penny is delighted with herself and grabs the strawberry sheet cake, covered in foil, from its resting spot.
“Penelope,” says Pfeff. “I think I love you. Quite a lot, actually.”
“Don’t call me Penelope,” says Penny.
And just like that, I hate him all the way again. I think I love you. Does he really have to make every single person adore him? Does he have to flirt with everyone, including my sister? Quite a lot, actually. Is he trying to make me jealous?
I ignore Pfeff for the rest of the boat ride. We unwrap the pan and cut slices of cake with a Swiss Army knife. Vanilla batter with swirls of strawberry jam and small chunks of hot strawberry. Sticky. Fragrant. We eat and then motor back, Pfeff driving.
I think about our half-finished conversation. Poor little rich boy, Lawrence the third, you think it makes you special that you don’t want to go to college and you liked your summer job? You think feeling that way makes you one of the people? You imagine you’re unique because you want to travel and bum around drinking beer? Everyone wants to travel. No one wants to go to college.
But then—people do want to go to college. At least, the people I know. My friends at school do. Major and Yardley and George do. And I am sure lots of people want to go who cannot.
But I don’t.
I want what Pfeff wants. To make things. To work. To see more of the world.