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missing a couple of boards when we were unloading the car. It’s a shame. The structure looks pretty solid. The place could be real nice with a little work.”
    â€œMaybe a bulldozer would help,” Lindsay joked.
    â€œBe nice. It’s not that bad,” her mom said.
    â€œI have exacting standards and exquisite taste. As such I can’t help but notice how much most things blow.”
    Her dad laughed loudly, and her mom smiled.
    â€œThat’s my girl,” her dad announced, and jabbed his fork into a piece of chicken.
    Â 
    She found the binoculars on the windowsill in the den. Lindsay certainly wasn’t looking for them, but there they were. After dinner she’d wandered into the room, wanting to see more of the ocean. She picked the glasses up and lifted them to her eyes. The metal casing was heavy and cold against her soft skin. Looking through the lenses, she adjusted the focus until the distant ocean waves came to her crisp and clear, though still terribly gray from the storm. Breakers rose and crashed and foamed. It looked cool, if depressing. She swept the glasses over the horizon and down the beach, where she again adjusted the focus, bringing a new object into view.
    â€œJeez,” Lindsay yelped, tearing the glasses from her eyes. There was something hideous and unbelievable out there. It looked like a baby, buried in the sand.
    She looked through the binoculars again and relaxed. It was a doll. The plastic head was crushed and most of the body was buried in wetsand, but its sad and mangled face was clear enough. One of the eyes was open, while the other was covered with the broken eyelid, which drooped askance against the doll’s cheek. The plastic fibers that once looked like hair fanned over the sand, dirty and wet.
    Farther along, she saw the side of a distant house and then a window. Lindsay adjusted the focus yet again, and nearly dropped the binoculars when the image cleared.
    A woman, maybe her mom’s age but totally beautiful, walked through the upstairs bedroom of the house. She wore a brightly colored piece of fabric knotted around her waist. Its lovely purple and crimson swirls draped to the woman’s knees. Besides the loose skirt, the woman was naked.
    Embarrassed, Lindsay put the binoculars back on the sill and stepped away. It occurred to her that the half-naked woman was the exact reason her uncle Lou kept the binoculars on the sill, and she shuddered at the idea.
    Still, she might be able to use the binoculars.
    She wouldn’t watch the boy next door, wouldn’t spy on him or anything. But at least she could get a good look at him. More than likely he’d turn outto be just another guy, and that would be that. Though if he was cute…
    The thing was, Lindsay had to take something good back from this trip, even if it was just a story about the hot guy next door. Her parents had dragged her away from the party of the year. That’s all anyone would talk about when she got home, and Lindsay would feel like a complete shadow if she didn’t have an equally cool—no, cooler—story to tell. She needed an adventure or a summer romance, something none of the other kids would have. She couldn’t go home with stories about flea markets or rubbing suntan lotion on her mom’s back.
    Lindsay left the binoculars on the windowsill and walked through the dining room to the kitchen door. Wanting to make sure her parents were busy before she lifted the binoculars, Lindsay pushed open the swinging door and froze.
    Her stomach knotted up, and she reared back a step. Her parents were making out against the kitchen counter.
    They weren’t just kissing either. That was gross enough, but they were really lip-locked, and her mom had her hand inside her dad’s shirt, rubbinghis stomach. She didn’t even want to think about where her dad’s hands were.
    At least they’d be busy for a while.
    Lindsay closed the door quietly.