If I bought her at auction, it’s quite possible that I’d take a different approach. If I’d hunted her down as an antique and entered her in shows and won blue ribbons, I’m sure I’d ban fish blood and guts, too. We have history, though, me and My Lucia. I spent my childhood fishing over her side on the opposite shore with my father, and although I mostly take her out for joyrides these days, I won’t apologize for my utilitarian relationship with her. Father would either be proud or appalled at the love and maintenance I give his prized possession, but not the guys at this marina. They think I’m nuts. It may actually pain them to watch me load my rods and nets—which, truth be told, might be part of why I find it so satisfying. I do everything else a man is expected to do around here. Blue ribbons or casual judgments won’t change this one thing.

Nick is finding places to stash my tackle box, cooler, fishing rods, and sundry crap: towels, sunscreen, hats, extra bottles of water that wouldn’t fit in the cooler, extra snacks. I’m just about to ask what he’s majoring in when he speaks first.

“So, your dad. He doesn’t use the boat anymore, then?” A passive way of asking whether or not my father is still alive.

“No,” I say. “My father died twenty years ago.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” He doesn’t know what to do with the bags of potato chips and pretzels in his hands until I point to the hutch up front. “My dad died when I was fourteen,” he offers.

“Is that right?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Too young.”

Over our shoulders, Jonah shouts, “Too young for what?” He looks rested, of course, and not at all bothered by his selfishness.

“Nice of you to join us,” I say.

“You bet.”

He wasn’t raised this way—not by me, anyway—but I’m afraid this might be the real him. Maybe the thing that presented as depression for so long was actually his indifference to the rest of the world. On the upside, he’s more confident and seems happy, which is better than walking around in a fog, I suppose, and boys will be boys.

I start the engine. Jonah unhitches the cleats and climbs aboard just as we pull away from the dock. Nick gets up to help, but his leg is asleep, and he nearly falls down, and I’m pretty sure I’ve wrangled the most useless crew in the bay.

“What prompted this family outing?” Jonah asks.