Rory kicked off his sandals on the weathered dock and watched the pontoon boat bob at the end of the pier, its white seats gleaming in the golden afternoon light. 'Race you there!' his oldest sister called, already sprinting along the boards, her bare feet slapping against the warm wood.
Rory balanced across the narrow dock planks, the lake water lapping against the pilings below with a soft, rhythmic sound. He reached the boat just as his oldest sister hopped aboard first, grinning with a piece of grass still stuck to her cheek.
Rory and his oldest sister paddled through the coves in a wading pool of warm, sparkling water while the three dogs cannonballed off the back of the boat, sending up fountains of spray. Rory chased a floating rubber duck that kept drifting just out of reach, laughing every time it bobbed away from him.
Rory's sunglasses sank to the pebbled bottom of the lake as he dove in after them, surfacing with wet hair and empty hands. He sat on the cool, sun-warmed rocks, watching the dragonflies zigzag across the glassy water, and his oldest sister quietly placed her own tiny pair of goggles on his lap.
Rory's dad flipped burgers on the grill, the smell of charcoal and buttery buns drifting through the pine-scented air. The family ate at the weathered picnic table under the string lights that had just begun to glow, their fingers sticky with melted butter.
Rory lifted a marshmallow over the fire pit, watching it slowly brown and bubble into a perfect golden sphere while the sparks spiraled up toward the darkening sky. His youngest sister watched with wide eyes, her chin resting on her knees, her small hand gripping a stick with two marshmallows still uncooked.
The youngest dog—a scruffy terrier mix—crept up behind Rory and snatched his marshmallow clean off the stick, bolting into the shadows with a triumphant yap that made Rory jump and then laugh until his sides hurt. The family howled with laughter as the dog disappeared into the pines, the marshmallow still clamped in its teeth.
The last ember glowed faintly orange before fading to gray ash, and the crickets began their nightly song beneath a sky dusted with stars. Rory curled against his oldest sister on the soft blanket, her small hand tucked into his, both of them too warm and too sleepy to move.