Jeffrey Tifton was in a blissful, all-encompassing, musical swoon. He couldn't help but fall into one as soon as his fingers grazed the piano keys. His father, a musician named Alec McGrath, joked that music-making was not a commitment for his son, but more of a love story. Jeffrey, now at his father's summer home in Point Moutte, Maine, launched into a series of sonorous chords. Reaching the end of the page, he abruptly stopped playing, and frantically turned the sheet over. Then, he began again, and this time, there would be no stopping. That is, until Skye and Rosalind arrived, bearing a plate of cheese and tomato sandwiches and a rather battered brownie. With a show of reluctance, Jeffrey stopped playing the piano, and turned to the sisters.
"What's this?" "Sustenance," answered Skye, pressing a sandwich on him. Rosalind skirted the glossy piano, and leaned a bookcase. "Daddy says you need food if you're an aspiring musician, you know." Jeffrey grinned. "He's right." "So where's Alec?" asked Skye, straightening her camouflage hat resolutely. Jeffrey swallowed hastily and said, "He's at Moose Market, picking up some ingredients for dinner." Skye wiggled her eyebrows with enthusiasm. Rosalind was peering anxiously out the window, squinting at the sunny beach. "I hope Batty and Ben are okay…Skye do you – " Skye scowled. "They're fine, Rosie." With effort, Rosalind averted her eyes from the window, and glanced at her watch instead. "Yikes, I have to get back to Birches! Daddy and Iantha will need help cleaning up." With that, Rosalind scooped up the empty sandwich tray, and slipped through the sliding glass door. Jeffrey brushed crumbs from his hands, and peered at his sheet music. "There's this one part," he explained to Skye, "that I just can't seem to play. The chord progression is tedious, and on top of that, Hoover stepped in mud, and got it on the music." Hoover was Alec's scrunch faced dog. Skye scratched a bug bite on her arm. "Too bad," she muttered absently.
"Skye, you weren't even listening!"
"Was too!"
"Were not!"
"Was – "
"Skye." Jeffrey raised his eyebrows. "If I'm boring you, just tell me." Skye grinned wickedly. "Now where would be the fun in that?"
It was a while before Skye managed to extricate Jeffrey, with much tugging and laughing and threats. At last, Jeffrey allowed himself to be steered in the direction of Birches, the fresh ocean-air clearing his head. As they approached the house, Jeffrey spotted Jane sprawled languidly in a deck chair. She was gazing dreamily up at the sky, her blue writing notebook propped in her laugh. Jeffrey wondered if she was coming up with an idea for a new story. Most likely, she was. "Hey, where's Batty?" called Skye, when they grew close. Jane tucked a loose curl behind her ear. "Hmm, they're on the beach, on the other side of the sea wall. Playing crabs, I think." Skye wrinkled her nose. "Crabs?" "Yes," said Jane. "Crabs. The little creatures that scuttle around and – " Skye rolled her eyes. "I know what they are, Jane." "Good." Jane was done talking, and turned her gaze back to the bright blue above. Jeffrey glanced sidelong at Skye, and chuckled at her comically murderous expression. "Blue skies," he sang, so that just Skye could hear. "Smiling at me," "You're a big help." Jeffrey began again, and this time, Skye silenced him with a well-placed jab in the ribs. "Ouch!" Jeffrey massaged the spot furiously.
They gathered two glass bottles of lemonade, two more brownies, and went back out to the deck where Jane was sitting. Jeffrey collapsed into a chair, while Skye kicked of her black sneakers and wiggled her toes in the sea breeze. Jeffrey could, from this view, see beyond the rocky sea wall. There, Batty, Ben, Hound and Hoover were all rollicking on the beach. Batty was attempting to scuttle, but Ben only managed a half crawl, half flop. Hound and Hoover were busy gnawing great globs of seaweed. Jeffrey caught Batty's eye, and waved. Batty beamed back, then lost her balance and toppled over. "Oh, look!" cried Jane. She pointed to a swarm of seagulls, calling raucously to one another. "What's so great about that?" frowned Skye, inclined to be skeptical. Jane stuck her tongue out at her sister, and Jeffrey laughed. All three children sat in friendly silence for a while. At least until Batty and Ben came trudging up to the deck, covered in slimy seaweed and sand. "This is going to be a long day," groaned Skye, and no one contradicted her.