I decided the only thing I could get Neil was something homemade, because he could have anything money could buy, and I probably couldn't afford his tastes. So I would make him something. It was the wrong season for a scarf, and, though it was a good idea, a "boy" giving another boy something like a sweater with love in the stitches probably wouldn't be appreciated as much as brownies, made under the supervision of Neil's chef and tasted by the food taster. I just hoped Neil liked brownies.

I packed several outfits today, all something a boy would wear. I didn't have a clue where this party was being held, other than the name of the beach, and I wondered if the weather would be as hot as it was in Boringsville or not. I packed for all weather conditions. One never knew what Neil's father had planned.