“You have your own room?” I ask. “When I saw the stuff on the couch, I figured that was your bed.”

“Naw, my dad had this done for me when I got here. I mean, it’s just a bed and a couple of posters, but it’s cool he gave me the room.”

“Yeah, that was cool.”

He turns toward me. “So you told Henry? I wish you hadn’t done that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter, I guess.” He takes the hat from the side table and plays with the buckle on the back.

“So what happened when the police brought you home?”

“Well, for one, Brandy and Tressa were here to see it. Tressa was delightful.”

I hadn’t even thought about them. Which surprises me.

“My dad was . . . well, not happy. But he wasn’t nearly as mad as I thought he would be. He said to stay put and then left to go fix something on the steps down at the beach. He came back later, reheated some of the stuff he calls his famous Portuguese seafood stew.” He leans forward. “You know, I don’t really like seafood. But he says his mom used to make it, so I try to eat it. So I have a grammy, too.” He smiles. “But dad calls her my avó. That’s Grammy in Portuguese.”

“That’s cool, Ronan. I hope I can meet your grammy . . . your avó . . . someday.”

“Yeah. Me too. And guess what else? It turns out that the Portuguese shark is the deepest-living shark on earth. I love that. I think that’s really cool.”

“Me too, Ronan. That is cool.”

He nods.

“So, you didn’t get in trouble after the fight at the beach?”

“No. After stew, we just watched TV. My dad didn’t say anything. Not anything. Except to tell me to brush my teeth.”

Henry calls us into the living room then, and when we sit down, he and Gusty look more relaxed.

“I wanted to speak with both of you, but I wanted Gusty to hear as well,” Henry says.

Ronan answers okay, but I’m too busy wondering what the heck is going on.

“I know you’ve had a tough time,” Henry begins, looking at Ronan. “And how you came to be on the Cape. Anyone would be upset with what you’ve been through. But, selfishly, I’m glad you’re here. You’ve been a good friend to Delsie. And I’m happy to know you.”

“Thanks,” Ronan mumbles.

Henry leans forward. “I’m here because I wanted to tell you a story. About myself.”

“Okay.”

“So, when I was eighteen, some friends and I were hanging down on Sea Street Beach, and someone suggested we go do some bad things. Things that were against the law.”

“But you didn’t go, right?” I ask.

“Well, Delsie, I did go. I knew it was wrong, and I knew it was stupid, but I went anyway. Because I’d had a terrible day and I had just graduated high school and didn’t know what I was going to do. And I wasn’t getting along well in the world. I was really struggling.”