It was usually her house. In part because it y between Joey’s and Kris’s, in part because her parents made the three feel more comfortable. They’d been hanging out here forever, it seemed.

  Ronnie sometimes referred to the three of them as ‘the Triumvirate.’ When did she start that? They might still have been in grade school. Her best friends had accepted it in time, though not without jokes at her expense. Now they used it naturally themselves.

  They watched scenes from the funeral on the evening news, on the little bck and white set in Ronnie’s bedroom. Only she had seen any of it earlier. She heard the phone ring and her mom answer it.

  “Ronnie! It’s Mister Brooks!”

  Couldn’t Mom have come to tell her rather than hollering? She went to see what was up. Her boss hardly ever called her.

  “Wants you to take more shifts?” asked Kris when she returned. “Tell him to give ’em to Joey. She needs the work!”

  “I wish I could. Brooks called to tell me he’s closing the store. I’ll only have a job for two more weeks.” She kept her voice as level as she could. Ronnie hurt some, inside, not for herself but for the Brooks couple. She wished they could have kept their little shop open forever, that this town would stop changing so quickly.

  “That sucks,” said Joey.

  “Sucks? I’ve never heard that before. It sounds kind of dirty,” Kris said.

  “Oh, the surfer guys say it. I don’t think it has anything to do with you-know-what.”

  Ronnie wasn’t sure she did know what. It didn’t matter. “I’ll miss getting discounts on books,” she said. “But, hey, I was going to be gone in a couple months anyway.”

  “You have enough books,” stated Kris. “Now you’ll be free to py with us the rest of the summer.”

  Joey snorted. “Easy for you to say, with your allowance. But we’re all free tonight, huh? What’ll we do?”

  “There’s the old standby,” said Kris. “Cruise around town.”

  Ronnie had to ugh at that. “And wave at everyone else doing the same. Your car or mine?”

  “Joey’s!”

  “It’s been a long time since I was able to haul the two of you anywhere on my bike,” said their friend. “We should all ride around together sometime, like we used to.”

  “But tonight it’s my Bug—”

  “Shotgun!” called Joey at once.

  “Kris is the smallest,” objected Ronnie. “She should be in the back.”

  “But my arms are too short to reach the wheel from there.”

  There was no arguing with that. It was undoubtedly better to ride in Kris’s new car than in her old cramped Simca, even if she did end up in the rear seat.

  The three trooped out into the living room. “We’re going to go sample the exotic night life of Naples,” Ronnie told her mother.

  “Do you want to eat first? I can fix something.”

  “We’ll stop somewhere for burgers. Chris’s.” Her friends nodded in agreement. They were heading out the door before Mom could say anything more. She hadn’t told her about the store closing, had she? Tomorrow would be okay.

  Moments ter she was cmbering into the cramped back seat of the bck VW. Kris had insisted on that color even though it would get hot in the Florida sun. I’ll park in the shade, she had told anyone who brought it up. She hadn’t today.

  Not that it mattered any. They had the convertible top down quickly. Who needed air conditioning? The familiar, noisy engine rasped and started up, and Kris eased out of the Deerfields’ old fashioned oyster shell drive. The house itself was kind of old fashioned and the nd here was likely to be worth more than the house sitting on it. That was true of a lot of pces in town. Brooks Books and Looks included.

  The Bug turned on Seventh and headed toward the beach. “We’re taking the scenic route,” Kris informed them.

  “All the beach accesses will still be crowded,” said Joey. “Even this te. All summer.”

  “If we want to watch the fireworks show on July Fourth we’ll have to come early and find a space,” Kris replied. She turned right on Gulf Shore.

  “It would be simpler to walk over,” felt Ronnie. Or ride bikes, like Joey had suggested. It had been ages since the trio had wheeled around town that way, hadn’t it?

  Past the Beach Club and its golf course. The oldest in a town now riddled with golf clubs. The oldest still in operation. Her dad said there had once been one downtown. She should look that up sometime. On northward. It was filling up more and more on either side of the road, apartment buildings mostly. Condos.

  The beach still y over there, somewhere to their left. It used to be visible along this way. They could have seen the sun setting over the Gulf. She didn’t want to think of that right now. There were enough things to be depressed about.

  “So,” she said to Kris, “who do you support now? I know Joey’s still big on McCarthy.” She and Kris had both been enthusiastic about Kennedy. That was over.

  “Does it matter? Oh, McGovern, I guess.”

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  Joey had once accused them of choosing their candidate on his looks. It would not be a good idea to bring that up again.

  “Lowdermilk Park,” announced Kris. “Close to closing time.” She turned into the parking lot and did a circuit before pulling back out onto the street. It was one pce the water could still be glimpsed, up at this north end of town.

  Almost a month earlier, a farewell party for the Css of Sixty-eight had been held there, one sunny day to remember each other by for the rest of their lives. They would never see some of those kids again, some of them kids they had gone to school with for twelve years.

  The band had been good, hadn’t it? Cute singer. Why didn’t she date guys like that instead of Daryl? Good ol’ Daryl, as she might forever think of him. For all Ronnie knew, she might never see him again either.

  Around a curve, over a bridge, through the burgeoning Moorings development to the highway. Directly across, a couple blocks back, was Naples High. Never again their destination.

  What was? Well, Chris’s Gourmet Castle tonight. It would be packed and that was okay.