He reaches for a biscuit and some butter and licks his fingers.

Esme hands him a napkin. He tucks it behind the collar of his T-shirt so it hangs down the front of him like a bib.

“So, tell me, Ronan,” she asks, “how long have you lived here? Are you a Caper or a lowly wash-ashore like me?”

“Naw, I just got here a couple of months ago.”

“With your parents?”

He glances over at me. “Nope. Just my dad.”

“Where is your mom?”

I sit up straighter, realizing that I don’t know the answer. Where is his mom?

He looks at Esme and seems sort of flustered.

“Why do you want to know?” he asks.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was just curious. You don’t have to tell me. I was just making conversation.”

He reaches for another biscuit. “She died,” he says. “So I came to live with my dad. I never stayed with him before, but he’s okay. Although he doesn’t talk much. We’re like two great white sharks just circling each other. He left a job on a swordfish boat to have me come. He says he misses it.” He turns to me and points at my plate. “You going to eat that?”

I shake my head, not even knowing what he’s asking about. I can’t believe it.

“Wait,” I say. “Your mom died?”

“Yeah. It was a big thing. You know. Anyway . . . does this place have chocolate milk?”

Even Esme doesn’t know what to say.

“I think they do, Ronan,” she says, studying him and looking all worried.

“Can I get some?” He doesn’t blink, holding her gaze like his life depends on it.

“Sure. You can get some.” She leans forward on her elbows. “Ronan?”

He looks up quick.

“Are you okay? Have you spoken to anyone about this?”

“Naw.” He reaches for some jam. “I don’t like to talk about that stuff. But I do talk to Delsie all the time. Did she tell you about Darwin, the crab that I threw back into the water?”

I laugh because I don’t know what else to do. Things not making sense seems to make sense these days.

Poor Ronan. And here I’ve been feeling sorry for myself.

Chapter 23

A SHOVELFUL OF SAND

“Delsie!” Mrs. Fiester calls.

I stop. “Hi, Mrs. Fiester. How are you?”

“I’m good, but I really haven’t seen you around for a while. What have you been up to?”

“Lots of stuff. Helping Grammy. Training for a 5K. And, you know, the summer.”

“Well, Brandy has missed having you around. You should go find her. She’s down on the beach.”

I wonder if Brandy has told her that or if she is just doing the mom thing. Sometimes adults have no idea what’s really going on.

“Okay, thanks,” I answer, and turn toward the beach. She didn’t say if Tressa was there or not; I pray she isn’t.