Well, I’ll be damned. He loves my boat. His relentless criticism of My Lucia all this time has either been for show—or, like the boy on the playground who pulls pigtails for attention, he’s been trying to flatter me. “She sure is.”

“I can appreciate a bit of sentiment in a man, Robert.”

“Hey, now.”

“I mean it,” he says. “This boat is your tell. There’s honor in keeping ties to your past.”

“How do you mean?”

“You know, like how this boat is a statement. Everyone respects that about you. You’re proud of your roots. Everyone thinks that’s great. Don’t get me wrong. No one would hold it against you if you traded ’er in for that speedboat you’ve been eyeing.”

I fake a laugh. “Is it that obvious?”

“Totally. But hey, when you’re ready, I’ll hook you up with a good buyer for this beauty, make sure she stays in good hands. I know a guy who might be looking soon, but like I said, when you’re ready. Just keep it in mind.”

“I will.” Glancing around the marina, from boat to boat, boater to boater, I try to see what Frank and, apparently, everyone sees. Everyone but me.

“Sorry I asked about the smell,” Frank says. “Of the—you know . . .”

“Don’t worry about it. Hey, thanks for the food. Tell Bonnie we loved the shepherd’s pie.” At least I think the shepherd’s pie was Bonnie’s contribution to our freezer. “You guys didn’t need to do anything, but we appreciate it.”

“You bet. She wants to do more. Elizabeth should call her, seriously. Bonnie loves it when people lean on her for support, you know? That’s what friends are for.”

I assure him that Elizabeth’ll be fine—that in fact, she hardly knew Nick, because he was Jonah’s friend, not mine, and certainly not Elizabeth’s. So yes, a terrible thing happened on our property, but our hearts ache for Jonah, mostly, and we’ll be okay.

Frank cuts me off. “Hey now, I wasn’t suggesting anything by saying Elizabeth needs support. Everyone knows your old lady is tough as nails. I mean, come on, she lets you keep a boat named after another woman. Bonnie would shit.”

“Lucia was my mom’s name,” I tell him.

“Still.”

“It’s bad luck to rename a boat.”

“Yeah, I know, but still. Bonnie would have painted over it, luck be damned. But hey, so it’s Lu-chee-ah? I always thought it was Loo-sha. Like Saint Lucia in the Caribbean. Huh.”

“That’s French.”

“Sure, sure. Then there’s Lu-see-ah. What’s that?”

“You feel like grabbing a beer?”

Frank looks at me as though he’s just noticed me standing here. “Now?”

I shrug.

He checks his watch. “Quarter to eleven. How about a coffee?”

“That’ll do.”