“. . . what were the names of those two gals who sailed the loop?” the woman says into the radio. “The ones who were interviewed by all the magazines.”

Norm’s reply is inaudible, but the lady nods.

“That’s it. Katie and Jessie. They were from Michigan, as I recall,” she tells Willa and Taylor. “Anyway, I admire you young women who do brave things like this. I couldn’t go without air-con—oh, good heavens, where are my manners? I’m Amy.” She switches to the kind of baby talk people reserve for toddlers and pets. “And this little schweetie is Sunshine.”

For the first time in days, Willa’s heart feels light and she dimples into a smile. “I’m Willa . . . and this little schweetie is Taylor.”

Amy has a hooting laugh, which cracks them up. Willa hopes she doesn’t think they’re laughing at her, but she smiles again as she says, “Aren’t y’all just the cutest things? Listen, would you like to join us for dinner?”

The thought of having a home-cooked meal is almost enough to make Willa cry, especially after two days of nearly nonstop sailing. Taylor’s head practically nods off her neck as she answers for them. “We’d love that. Thank you.”

“Come on over in an hour,” Amy says. “We’re having lasagna with salad and garlic bread.”

“Can we bring anything?” Willa asks.

“Just yourselves.”

“So . . . are we ever going to talk about Atlantic City?” Taylor asks as they clean the cabin and gather their dirty laundry. “Are you okay?”

“They threw me out of the casino,” Willa says, folding her comforter.

Taylor blinks. “Wait. That’s it?”

“I’ve never been thrown out of anywhere in my life!” Willa exclaims. “The security guard led me out by the arm like I was some sort of criminal, and the boys . . . They took off running. The guard told me if I ever come back—like ever—they’ll have me arrested.”

“Which is better than actually being arrested,” Taylor points out.

“I know. It’s just—I’ve spent the past two days dying of embarrassment. I knew you were right to leave, but the idea of having that much money prickled under my skin like a fever and . . . I was awful.”

“You were a little awful.”

Willa tries not to laugh, but when Taylor crinkles up her nose and smiles, Willa knows all is forgiven. Still, she apologizes. “I’m really sorry.”

“The good thing about being alone was that I had some time to think,” Taylor says. “Finley talked me into doing a lot of things I might not have done, but I think—well, I want to have my own adventures now, even if they’re boring by her standards.”

Willa nods. “So maybe we need to stop trying to figure out what Finley would do and just do what we want to do.”