Peaches

water. “There’s probably all sorts of snakes in here and lizards and stuff. I think I’m gonna get out.” As she turned to head to shore, Murphy tackled her waist.
    They both went tumbling down, laughing, sending glossy rings rippling across the lake.

Chapter Seven
    L eeda stretched out on the bank, her wet hair slapping the backs of her shoulders, her chest heaving with her breath. Goose bumps crawled on her skin in the cool spring air. She hadn’t been swimming in ages. Lain by the pool, yes. The Cawley-Smiths had summer whenever they wanted, and she’d spent several winter weekends by pools in L.A., Miami, and the Keys. But she didn’t really like to get wet, and she rarely swam.
    Beside her, Rex had splayed out on his back, holding her hand gently in his, the way he always did, like a big brother letting her know he was there. Murphy splashed around in the cold water, occasionally calling to them. “Hey, guys, there’s an alligator, help!” “I’ve got a cramp and I can’t make it to shore.” “Oh my God, what’s that?!” Duck diving. Back diving in little flips in the water.
    Her energy was infectious. Leeda remembered Murphy from school clearly now. She was the kind of girl who had always intimidated Leeda—sharp, strong, acid. There was a small percentage of people at Bridgewater High who weren’t interested in Leeda Cawley-Smith in some way. She figured Murphy was probably one of them.
    Leeda went to tons of parties. Her friends threw ones where just about everybody invited was nice to look at, there were vodka ice blocks instead of kegs, and everyone fooled around in the bedrooms and passed out. But Murphy was never at those parties.
    “Aren’t you freezing?” Leeda called.
    In response Murphy leapt into the air and sank beneath the water like a pin, then splashed onto her back and stroked to the other edge.
    Leeda glanced at Rex from time to time to see if he was watching.
    “I think she has more fun doing nothing than I ever do,” Leeda said.
    Rex was looking at the sky. “I think it’s mostly show.”
    Leeda watched Murphy a while longer, wondering.
    “I guess we should go soon,” she said, yawning. “Hey, Murphy, are you ready to go back?”
    Murphy emerged from the water dripping, looking like a fertility goddess with all her curves. “Sure. Whatever.”
    They stood up and Leeda shivered, letting Rex put his arm around her and rub her shoulders to warm her up. She led them back through the pecan grove, where the dwarfy, droopy acres of peach trees were replaced by huge stately trunks with crackled, sheathy skins. When they reached it, Murphy let out a breath. “Wow.”
    “It’s pretty, huh?”
    “Sure,” Murphy said, regaining her edge.
    The pecan trees were lined up in two perfect rows. Leeda knew from Uncle Walter that they were at least a hundred and fifty years old and still produced nuts. The Darlingtons had neglected thepecans for years, but in the summers Poopie sent Birdie to gather them and made a mean pecan pie. Leeda knew it was time-consuming to harvest pecans, and for the first time it occurred to her that maybe they didn’t harvest them because they couldn’t afford to.
    “It looks like the land of the giants,” Murphy said.
    Leeda had never looked at it that way, but it was true. There was something creepy about the trees standing in rows, holding their branches out above them like the marines had held out their swords at her uncle Gabriel’s military wedding.
    “I’ve always hated the woods,” Leeda whispered. “But I like this.”
    “This isn’t exactly the woods.”
    “I know that. I’m just saying, I don’t really like trees.”
    Murphy squinted at her, her green eyes narrowed. “How can you not like trees? That’s like not liking water, or the sun, or breathing.”
    “She just doesn’t,” Rex said irritably, squeezing Leeda’s arm protectively.
    But Murphy didn’t acknowledge him. “You have a childhood tree trauma?”
    Leeda nodded. Rex knew all her humiliating childhood stories, but Murphy looked dubious. It made Leeda want to defend herself.
    “I used to really like climbing trees when I was little.” She paused, waiting for Murphy to ask her to go on, which Murphy didn’t. “Daddy said it wasn’t ladylike and I shouldn’t do it, but you know.”
    “Did you have a little pony?” Murphy asked teasingly.
    Leeda ignored her. “Anyway, one day I got stuck way up inone of the trees in the backyard. I called for help,