I’m so excited. I know what he’s going to ask.

“So, I’m wondering if you’d like to come out with me. You’re older now, and I think it’s about time. Are you up for it?”

I jump once. “I would love it!” I clasp my hands together as if to pray. “But I told Ronan I’d hang out with him. Can he come with us? Please, please, please?”

“Fine with me. Provided his dad says it’s okay.”

I hug Henry, and he laughs again. Then he leans through the doorway and yells, “Bridget! Did you hear that? Can I take your girl fishing tomorrow?”

Grammy appears in the doorway. “How’s the weather, Henry?”

“It’s going to be as quiet as a seal on Monomoy Island.”

“Okay, Henry. But you take care of my girl, you hear?”

“You know I’ll take care of her just like she’s mine.”

I smile at Henry and leave for Seaside Heaven.

• • •

Ronan’s drinking orange soda when he opens his door. “Hey,” he says between gulps.

“Henry Lasko says he’ll take us both fishing tomorrow if your dad says it’s okay.”

Before he can say anything, his father calls, “Ronan! Who’s at the door?”

“It’s just Delsie.”

“Just Delsie? That’s no way to greet someone, Ronan.” His father steps up to me. His hair is a mess, and his face is scruffy, covered in whiskers. He smells like bacon.

He waves me in.

The house is dark, and there are clothes all over the backs of the chairs. There are some wooden fish hanging on the wall and a poster of a Portugal map over the couch.

Ronan seems uneasy.

“So what brings you by, Delsie?” his dad asks.

“Henry, my neighbor, wants to take me and Ronan out on his boat fishing tomorrow, but he said you have to give permission.”

“Who is this Henry guy? How big is the boat? Does he have experience on the water?”

“He’s a striper fisherman out of Chatham, and he’s kind of like my dad,” I tell him. “I don’t know exactly how big his boat is, but it could probably hold, like, five couches.”

He laughs. “A practical girl. I like that.” He turns to Ronan. “Is this the boat you found beached that day?”

Ronan nods.

“Well,” he says, “leave me this Henry’s number, and I’ll give him a call.”

“Really?” Ronan asks. “You have to call?”

“Hey. I don’t know the guy. I want to feel him out. I wouldn’t loan my car to a stranger. You think I’d send off my son? Out on the ocean, no less?”

• • •

“I’m glad he pretty much said yes,” Ronan tells me, but now all of a sudden he’s looking worried.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“I don’t have stuff to go fishing. I don’t have a pole, and I don’t have clothes for it. You know I don’t even have a bathing suit.”

“I don’t think it matters. If you wear jeans and long sleeves on the boat, you’ll look just like Henry and most of the other fishermen—and me. I burst into flames if I’m out in the sun all day. It’s called an Irish tan. We bring fire extinguishers to the beach.”