The Penderwicks at Point Mouette by Jeanne Birdsall Page B

I am!”
    “No kidding.”
    “Let’s do it with our left hands.”
    They switched hands and once again Jeffrey won, even more quickly this time.
    “Sorry,” he said.
    “Never mind,” Skye answered grouchily. “You’d better go back to talking about music.”
    “Right. Well, you know how much I want to make music my whole life. Then last night, when Jane was asking Alec and Turron questions about love—”
    “Please, no.” Skye shook her head. “I should have gone after all.”
    “It was all right, because Aunt Claire didn’t let her ask anything too embarrassing. Anyway, Alec and Turron ended up talking about how difficult it is to mix family with music, because of all the travel and uncertainty. They’re both divorced and neither of them have any children. Alec’s marriage was so bad he won’t even talk about it—just that he was young and it lasted only a few months. That’s sad, don’t you think?” Jeffrey shook his head at the sadness. “I hope I never get divorced.”
    “You can’t even get married for years and years. Why worry about getting divorced? Besides, I’m sure there are plenty of musicians who manage to stay married.”
    “I guess so,” he said, then: “Do you ever wonder if we’ll get married?”
    “To each other? Good grief.” She felt his forehead for a fever. “What’s wrong with you? Is Jane getting to you with all her crazy talk?”
    Jeffrey laughed. “Maybe.”
    The sky was brightening now, its pink-edged clouds reflected in the lake below. Skye watched as the grass on the golf course turned from blue to green and tried not to be discouraged about the arm wrestling. But the summer before, at Arundel, she’d been just as strong as Jeffrey, and almost as fast a runner.
    “Let’s see who can do the most push-ups,” she said.
    “I already know. I can do twenty-nine.”
    “Twenty-nine!” Skye could do ten, twelve at the most. “You never told me that.”
    “I don’t tell you
everything.
”
    “I thought you did.” She stuck out her tongue at him. At least she was still a slightly better soccer player than he was.
    “But I should tell you what happened with Batty last night. Alec was showing her a few things on the piano—”
    “So that he could avoid Jane’s love questions.”
    “No, Skye, listen. When he showed Batty the difference between major and minor chords, she understood right away. He thinks she might have real musical talent. And you should have seen her listening to us play.”
    “It’s you she adores, not music. What about sit-ups? How many can you do?”
    Jeffrey shook his head, warning her. “Hundreds.”
    “I dare you,” she said, and got into position for a sit-up contest. “Ready?”
    Maybe Jeffrey could have done hundreds of sit-ups and maybe Skye could have kept up, but before they made it even to thirty, he was grabbing her arm and pointing to the woods on the other side of the lake. What they’d come for was happening—moose were arriving. First came a huge cow moose, pushing her way out of the trees and sauntering casually to thewater, dipping her head to drink. A great big brown beast, she was treat enough, but what came next made Skye catch her breath—two young calves, wobbly on their still-spindly legs and playfully bumping each other as they rushed to catch up with their mother.
    “Twins?” she asked in a whisper, although the moose were much too far away to hear.
    “Yes. Alec told me that we might see twins.”
    They sat quietly for a long time, watching the family below go about its morning business. Skye had a pang of regret that Batty wasn’t there to see them, too, especially when the calves teamed up on one of the golf flag poles and head-butted it until it broke in half. Batty would have loved that. It was just a brief pang, though, and Skye figured she wouldn’t have had it at all if she weren’t getting hungry for breakfast.
    When the moose finally wandered back into the trees, Jeffrey had one last thing to