“What did you do?”

“We broke into a bunch of houses. Took people’s things. Bad stuff. Things I would never do now.”

“Wait,” I say, feeling a bit dizzy. “You broke into people’s houses?”

“I did, Delsie. I’m not proud of it, but as I said, I would never do that now.” He turns to Ronan. “So for that I went to jail, Ronan. I took things that didn’t belong to me. I stood by while a friend fought with a homeowner. I fled the scene and didn’t call an ambulance when I should have. I went to jail for two years, and I was lucky it wasn’t longer.”

I feel awful.

Henry turns to me. “I’ve always told you about the little voice, right, Delsie?”

“Yeah,” I say. “The little voice. I think of that all the time. It tells you you’re about to do something dumb.”

“That’s right. I heard the voice that night and ignored it. And I paid for it.”

Ronan turns to his father. “Were you there, too? You said you used to know each other.”

Gusty draws in a deep breath and holds it. But Henry answers first. “Yes, Ronan. Your dad was there on the beach that night. But when we said we were going to do what we were going to do, he told us we were idiots. And he was right. Your dad was the only one who didn’t go that night.”

Ronan stares at his dad. Stares at him the way a person looks when a terrible storm has finally ended.

“So, in prison,” Henry continues, “I had two years to think about what happened.”

“That must have been awful,” Ronan says. “A great white shark can’t survive in captivity. Most die after a few days. They won’t eat. They ram their heads into the walls of the tank.”

“That makes sense,” Henry says. “A strong animal like that. It’s pretty awful to be locked up. So I had two years to decide what kind of life I was going to have when I got out. And getting out was not easy. People looked at me different. Treated me different. I had to tell people I’d been inside when I applied for jobs. It was hard to get someone to give me a chance. I was at the end of my rope. I even remember wondering if it wouldn’t be easier to go back to jail.”

He looks me right in the eye. “But it was your papa Joseph, Delsie. He was the one who told me a man is not made by his mistakes. He’s made by what he does about them.”

Henry stares at the floor and shakes his head. “And boy, did I work hard on his boat for him. Morning, noon, and night. I wanted him to respect me the way I respected him, but I knew I had to earn it. And I did.”

He turns to Ronan. “So you made a mistake out of anger. But that doesn’t mean that’s who you are. Character is made or broken by patterns of behavior. Not one mistake.”