In true Amy fashion, dinner is not simply tacos, but a smorgasbord of taco fixings, including chicken and beef, black and pinto beans, and homemade guacamole that’s better than Taylor’s mom’s recipe. Taylor is touched that Willa remembered her favorite kind of cake and baked it for her. And she laughs when Willa presents her with a black gift bag that says OVER THE HILL on it. Inside, is a snow globe from Atlantic City—featuring the Ferris wheel and grand carousel from the Steel Pier—and a couple of scratch-off lottery tickets.

Taylor rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “This is a terrible gift.”

Willa grins. “I know, right?”

“I love it. Thanks . . . for all of this.”

“It’s probably weird to be here with me instead of home with your family on a milestone birthday,” Willa says. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too.”

Amy’s gift is a silver bracelet with a dangling compass charm. “A friend gave me this after my husband walked out on me and the kids. You know what she said to me? She said, ‘Amy, it’s okay to feel lost for a while, but this is to remind you that you don’t have to stay lost.’ And . . . well, I just think it’s time to pass it on.”

“You’ve both been so kind to us.” Taylor looks to Norm and back to Amy. “I don’t know what to say, other than thank you.”

“That’s plenty, Twigs,” Norm says.

“Wait . . . Twigs? You call her Spitfire and me Twigs?”

Norm shrugs. “Suits you.”

“Because I’m tall,” she says flatly.

“Because one day you’ll be so strong and deep-rooted that nothing will knock you down.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Now. As pleasant as this has been, if you two are not away from the dock at first light tomorrow, I’m cutting your lines.”

This birthday was not one Taylor could have ever anticipated, but it might just go down as one of the best. She smiles at Norm. “Yes, Captain.”

36.8508° N, 76.2859° W

Give a “ship.”

Willa

IT DOESN’T TAKE LONG FOR them to understand what Finley might have been thinking when she created the “Give a ‘ship’ ” clue. Entering the harbor at Norfolk, they pass a massive naval base filled with aircraft carriers and destroyers. A three-masted schooner sails past Whiskey Tango Foxtrot as the sun dips toward the horizon. And not far from their marina is the USS Wisconsin, a huge World War II battleship. There are ships everywhere.

“What do you think she meant for us to do?” Taylor asks as they sit in the cockpit eating bowls of macaroni and cheese. “Take a tour? Join the navy? Become pirates?”

“I thought we were going to stop worrying about what Finley would do.”

“We can still try to decipher the clues.”