Page 92 of Eleanor’s Earrings

“That is the least convincing thing you have ever said.”

Caroline raised her hand. “I nominate the Christmas goose.”

“No.”

Rebecca brightened. “The Christmas goose.”

“Absolutely not.”

Lucy bounced. “Tell it!”

Eleanor looked around the fire. “There are other stories.”

“Not better ones,” Martha said.

Nathaniel turned toward her. “What did Eleanor do to a goose?”

“I did nothing to the goose.”

Rebecca said, “That depends on how you define nothing.”

Eleanor pointed at her. “You were eleven.”

“I remember.”

Lydia addressed the camp. “When Eleanor was seventeen—”

“Sixteen.”

“Thank you for correcting the historical record.”

Nathaniel smiled.

Eleanor glared at him.

Lydia continued. “Father bought a goose for Christmas dinner.”

“It was a very aggressive goose,” Grace said.

“You were not born yet,” Caroline told her.

“Mother told me.”

“The story survived generations,” Nathaniel murmured.

Eleanor nudged him with her elbow.

“The goose escaped,” Lydia said.

“It did not escape,” Eleanor protested. “Rebecca opened the pen.”

Rebecca said, “I wanted to pet it.”

“You wanted to see whether it would chase Caroline.”

Caroline nodded. “It did.”

The camp laughed.