Firefly Lane (Firefly Lane 1)

"I do not throw tantrums. Now close your eyes and put your arms out from your sides, like an airplanes wings. "

Kate closed her eyes and extended her arms.

Tully pushed the wheelchair over the bumpy bit of grass. There, at the lip of the slow hill that rolled down to the beach, she paused. "Were kids again," she whispered into Kates ear. "Its the seventies and weve just sneaked out of your house and gotten our bikes. " She began to push the chair forward; it went slowly, bumping over the uneven grass, dipping in potholes, and still Tully talked. "Were on Summer Hill, riding without our hands, laughing like crazy people, thinking were invincible. "

Kate felt the breeze along her bare head, tugging at her ears, making her eyes water. She could smell the evergreen trees and rich, black earth. She put her head back and laughed. For a moment, just a heartbeat really, she was a kid again, on Firefly Lane with her best friend beside her, believing she could fly.

When the ride was over and they were on the beach, she opened her eyes and looked up at Tully. In that moment, that one poignant smile, she remembered everything about them. The starlight looked like fireflies, falling down around them.

Tully helped her into one of the beach chairs, and then sat down beside her.

They sat side by side, as theyd done so often in the past, talking about nothing that mattered, this and that.

Kate glanced back at the house, saw that no one was on the deck, and leaned toward Tully, whispering, "Do you really want to feel like a kid again?"

"No, thanks. I wouldnt change places with Marah for the world. All that angst and drama. "

"Yeah, youre a real drama-free zone. " Grinning at her own wit, Kate dug into the purple pouch on her lap and pulled out a fat white doobie. At Tullys awestruck expression, Kate laughed and lit up. "I have a prescription. "

The sweet, strangely old-fashioned scent of marijuana mingled with the tangy sea air. A cloud of smoke darted between them and disappeared.

"You are totally bogarting the joint," Tully said, and they both laughed again. Just that word—bogart—sent them spiraling back to the seventies.

They passed it back and forth and kept talking, giggling. They were so caught up in then that neither of them heard footsteps coming up behind them.

"I turn my back on you girls for ten minutes and youre smoking pot. " Mrs. Mularkey stood there, dressed in faded jeans and a sweatshirt from the nineties—maybe even the eighties—her snow-white hair in a lopsided, scrunchied ponytail. "You know that leads to worse things, dont you? Like the crack or LSD. "

Tully tried not to laugh; she really did. "Just say no to crack. "

"Thats a lesson I tried to teach Marah in choosing her pants," Kate said, giggling.

Mrs. M. pulled up another Adirondack chair and positioned it beside Kate. Then she sat down and angled toward her.

For a moment they all sat there, staring at one another while smoke drifted into the air.

"Well?" Mrs. M. finally said. "I taught you to share, didnt I?"

"Mom!"

Mrs. M. waved her hand. "You girls from the seventies think youre so cool. Let me tell you, I was around for the sixties, and youve got nothing on me. " She took the joint and put it in her mouth, taking a long, deep drag, holding it, and blowing it out. "Hell, Katie, how do you think I got through the teen years when my two girls were sneaking out of the house at night and riding their bikes in the dark?"

"You knew about that?" Tully said.

Kate laughed. "You said it was booze that got you through. "

"Oh," Mrs. M. said. "That, too. "

At one oclock in the morning they were in the kitchen raiding the refrigerator when Johnny walked in and noticed the pile of junk food on the counter. "Someone has been smoking pot. "

"Dont tell my mom," Kate said.

At that, her mom and Tully burst out laughing.

Kate leaned back in her wheelchair, grinning loopily up at her husband. Cast in the pale and distant light from the hallway, wearing his drugstore bifocals and an old Rolling Stones T-shirt, he looked like a hip professor. "I hope youve come to join the party. "

He moved toward her, bent down, and whispered, "How about a private party?"

She put her arms around his neck. "You read my mind. "