“Not really. Minor and I have a little joke. I’ll say, ‘Minor mine, you are so fine.’ And he’ll say, ‘It ain’t no trick to love my Nyck.’ But that’s just between us. Nobody regularly calls me Nyck. Paps calls me gullgosse.”

“Golden boy.”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“Well, I can’t steal his endearment. And you’re definitely not a Ken or a Kenny.”

He laughed. “No.”

“So now that we’re friends, may I call you Nyck?”

He looked at her. Beneath his snagged gaze, he felt the smile widen his mouth. “I’d like that.”

Now that we’re friends.

Kennet wasn’t sure if Minor dropped hints within the family circle, but as the halfway point of Astrid’s visit approached, the social dynamic shifted. The Fiskares’ competitive grip on their guest loosened. They drifted away to their work, their friends, their pastimes and puttering.

After much begging and cajoling from the youngsters, Marta conceded defeat and agreed Astrid could leave the hotel and stay with the family the rest of the visit. But she insisted Astrid take her attic room with its adjoining bath.

“Don’t be silly,” Astrid said. “No reason for you to move out. I’ll just take the spare room.”

Marta lifted a foot and put it down again. “My room. Take it or leave it, cousin.”

Astrid laughed, kissed Marta and moved into the attic room. Soon she was incorporated into the family’s daily life: in the kitchen, cooking and washing up, or out in the garden, tending and weeding. Sweeping the hotel veranda and greeting guests. Sorting mail into the pigeonholes behind the front desk.

Kennet was busy all day—ferrying guests, running tours, making repairs to boats, tending to hotel and home business. Gradually, unobtrusively, Astrid began to accompany him. First on his morning runs, delivering the mail sacks and the first load of passengers out to Wellesley Island. Soon, she was coming along on sightseeing jaunts, either standing by him at the wheel, or mingling with the guests in the cabin. Her English still wasn’t proficient, but she quickly amassed a collection of polite, chatty phrases and had a knack for looking like she was following conversation, even if she wasn’t. She was best with children, easily entertaining their short attention spans so parents could enjoy the tour.

At the marina, she helped Kennet dock the boat and if he had repairs to make, she handed him his tools, asking questions, curious about everything and everyone.

“Is Johnny MacIntyre another your mother took in?”

“My grandmother, rather. Major and Johnny have been friends since they were tykes. They both survived polio.”

“I see.”

“Being lame kept them from doing a lot of things, so they’ve always banded together to do as much as possible. Major has two good arms, Johnny has two good legs. As a team, they’re a force of nature.”