ABSTRACT
Adam rolled over and squinted at the clock on the bedside table.
Nine-thirty? How did that happen? Well, staying up until one o’clock will do that, he
told himself. It had been Jason’s idea to dredge the old camping chairs from the garage loft and set them up on the exposed rock of the patio after dinner. Maureen seemed unfazed about having to step over the stacks of lumber and open trenches to settle in. The stories spilled out-the time the raccoon sneaked into their tent during their first camping trip, Maureen seeing Adam’s legs dangling from the broken hole in the ceiling, the hamster that got loose and took up residence in Mo’s winter boots, even Jason’s revelation that it had been he and his buddies who had put soapsuds in the town fountain that Fourth of July.
