"Good answer," I said, just like they say on a TV game show.

Stacey grinned at the compliment. "Any time," she told me.

Chapter 5.

You wouldn't believe how many times I rewrote my postcard to Logan. You'd think I was doing a term paper for Advanced Composition class. Of course, it was a lot harder to write than a term paper, because I had to find the perfect "tone," as my English teacher would say. I had to be funny (I thought the part about the mummy was pretty good), and I had to sound like I was having a wonderful time. Of course, I wanted Logan to know that I would be having an even better time if he were there with me. You see what a problem I had. I didn't want Logan to think I was pining away for him, but I also didn't want him to think I was so super-cool, I didn't even miss him. What a dilemma! (Another expression my English teacher uses a lot.)

I tucked the postcard in the bottom of my underwear drawer before I went to bed Saturday night. When I woke up Sunday morning, I discovered that everything I had said about the weather had been totally wrong.

There was no sunshine, and the sea looked grim and choppy. The sky was a flat gray color, like someone had gone over it with a gallon of semigloss paint and a roller. I thought it looked very depressing, although I know that some people don't mind cool, windy days at the beach.

Breakfast was hectic as usual. Mr. Pike was flipping pancakes in what looked like the world's largest frying pan, while Mal was busily making gallons of orange juice. Vanessa buttered a mountain of raisin-bread toast while I micro waved the bacon. Stacey put the triplets to work setting the table, watching to make sure that everybody got the right amount of silverware. You'd be surprised how much planning goes into breakfast for twelve people. Luckily, Mrs. Pike is very organized (unlike my stepmother) and had everything pretty much under control.

"I think it's going to be cloudy all morning," Mrs. Pike said, looking at the overcast sky. "What do you kids want to do today?"