Oliver tugged his sleeve.

“We can play.”

“After lunch,” Clara said.

“First, hands.”

The boys ran to the porch, slowed when reminded about the steps, then hurried inside.

Their voices carried through the open doorway, still arguing about which one should wash first.

James followed with the cooler.

Clara heard him asking where to put it, then one of the boys volunteering an answer that would have blocked the kitchen completely.