After lunch, we are ushered into a big tent to hear a poet. The poet has an African-sounding name even though she isn't from Africa. Her talents seem to be rhyming pussy with hussy and fussy. Then she reads a poem where we are supposed to yell "Wax and Wane!" after lines like, "Women have vaginas that can speak to one another!" It feels good to yell. It feels good to pump my fist in the air, and for the first time since being here, I feel this sort of electric woman power. Our poet recites, "Women are healers, we recover!" Dahlia is beaming, and Mom has tears in her eyes.

Mom orders for all of us and nobody gets what they want. Our waiter brings Dad some sort of spicy pasta. I get lamb. We all order wine. Dad is mad because he wanted to eat at his favorite restaurant. Mom tells Dad that we have a reservation there for Friday night. This isn't good enough for Dad. Tommy and I order another glass of wine. I keep expecting to be scolded for drinking, but nobody says anything to me. Tommy and I are getting along again. A cute girl comes into the restaurant. She looks at Tommy. I look at her. Tommy looks at me. Tommy is too shy. I nudge him with my elbow. Tommy elbows me back. He says, "Stop it, will you?" The girl doesn't stay long.

I shrug. From the outer defense wall, Brook yells, "You've ruined our family!" Then she stomps back to where Ned and I are, grabs my arm, and pulls me back inside the chapel. Brook drags me over to where Mom and Dad are sitting. She barks at Mom to make room for us. Then she asks, "Can we act like a proper family for once? Please? God!" With all the candles lit and everybody dressed so fancy, the chapel looks sort of ethereal. I tell this to Mom, who says, "I don't think you're using that word correctly." On the balcony, an artist sits, painting at an easel. Mom gestures around the room, then says, "We hired him to paint the scene."

I don't know where to go because everything is quiet and grey and nobody seems to be around. Bane knows where to go though. He hikes right up to a large cabin and knocks and knocks. Even though the lights are on in the front room, nobody answers the door. Right after Mom left, Maisie sat down and started working on the lanyard she got last week at Art & Stuff. When I first told Mom that I wanted to go to fencing camp, she said nobody fences, but then I went on the internet and I found a camp right in the middle of Ventura Blvd. Bane thinks it's cool that I fence, and even though fencing is my thing, he says he's going to start fencing next year. Maisie doesn't want to fence because she is afraid she'll get hurt. She's afraid of everything that is slightly interesting or cool. She only likes stupid mock trial. You can hardly ever get her to shut up about it. I hope they have fencing at this camp.