“That happen everywhere you go?” Warren’s grip was firm as he shook Cody’s hand.

“I can honestly say that’s a first, sir.”

The man released Cody’s hand and straightened. “I gather you saved someone’s life here recently?”

Cody felt the confusion spread across his face. “Yeah, that’s right.” It had been over a week and Louisa still hadn’t told her parents what happened? That was so Louisa.

“A boater or . . . ?”

“Paddleboarder,” Cody said, feeling like he was lying simply by omitting the details.

“Life vest?”

Cody shook his head.

“When will people learn?” Warren crossed his arms over his chest. “Someone said you’re in the Coast Guard?”

“That’s right. Since I graduated.”

“Impressive. You’re stationed here?”

“Yes, sir,” he said. “Brant Point.”

Warren nodded. “Can’t think of a better place to live.”

Cody could think of a hundred better places to live, starting with Siberia.

“Good to see you, son.”

The word, a simple identifier, stopped Cody cold. Nobody called him son. Not anymore.

Warren clapped a hand on Cody’s shoulder and walked toward the line at the counter.

And Cody tried hard to swallow the lump at the back of his throat.

Louisa wouldn’t say that Maggie was a hoarder—at least not to her face—but the woman had crammed so much stuff into her cottage, it was a miracle she ever found her way to the front door.

Louisa had promised to help her sort through her things, and though neither of them said so, she knew it was because Maggie wanted to get her affairs in order before she became too sick to do so.

They could both see the end on the horizon. Louisa kept wishing that horizon further and further away.

“You hear back from anyone about my birthday?” Maggie asked, sorting through a box of National Geographic magazines that dated back to the seventies.

Louisa glanced down and noticed that so far, all the older woman had done was move the magazines from the box to a stack on the floor.

“Is that your giveaway pile?”

Maggie held up a magazine with a cowboy on the cover. “I can’t give these away.”

Louisa only stared.

“These could be worth something, Lou.”

“To who?”

“To a collector. Let’s list them on eBay.”

Louisa groaned. She didn’t have time to list this stuff on eBay, but how did she tell Maggie her house was full of junk?

“Maybe I should’ve had you wait till I was dead to go through all this stuff,” Maggie said. “Then you could’ve just tossed it and I’d be none the wiser.”

Louisa had had the same thought as soon as she showed up that morning and saw that everything normally stuffed in the two extra bedrooms of Maggie’s cottage had been carted out into the living and dining rooms.