Cotuit
![Image](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1F8G5OZ6giJFQJrCBQ8zvSYhjvSW6yyTQn5cUcF7uYJLm1pg_2deePX-fbCNXq7N-fbgr8W6FBfVt6NVzOA8XqCTTSrMqACLRPizhqfSb_L1R48zB0z79Z8TWWEjKv92m5Wt30I6V6VJm37LtPWfv7vQcZUiT9QS5_EPoJY6ODW7bgduKcHpgn_hY0oE/s320/IMG_9537.jpg)
And another summer's week at the Cape. All the children are here: Cameron, Kaitlyn, Zachary, Avery, Zoe, Asher, Elijah. And Dave, Kaitlyn's husband. And my niece Katie, and her girlfriend from Texas, Rachel. Tomorrow Kanika arrives, Cameron's wife. Everyone was scattered through the first floor, making lemon zucchini cake, playing a complicated board game called Everdell, resting on the white furniture (why??) shimmying to Avery's playlist. And Zoe said, "Are they all yours?" in a sarcastic, Massachusetts accent. Years ago, when the kids were Asher and Elijah's age, this is how we were greeted once at Honeydew Donuts. "Are they all yours?" Yes, I said then, shelling out eight dollars for four donuts and an iced coffee. Yes, I say now, although they have multiplied, have various mothers and fathers, coupled and uncoupled with sundry partners, and yes, although they aren't strictly all mine, they are mine to be with, mine to love. I'll