Jessica went down to the water's edge to watch for the whales to reappear. They always did—after diving, fishing down below in the plankton-rich waters flowing in from the Gulf of St. Lawrence, whales always resurfaced to take a breath. Marisa had learned that it was something to count on.

She had lost faith over her years with Ted—there hadn't been much to count on, including herself. Her music had stopped, and even Sam had given up on her. After years of always meeting at the Blarney Stone for Saint Patrick's Day—no matter where in the world Sam was working, she would travel back to Baltimore, and Marisa would take the train down from Boston, and they would take the stage and set the bar on fire with their fiddles.

Marisa had gotten lost in a bad relationship—the kind of thing she'd never thought could happen to a woman like her. She was strong, tough, and brave. She'd managed to run a clinic for low-income families in Baltimore. She had opened another in South Boston—and kept working even while taking care of her first husband, Paul, after he was diagnosed with lymphoma. If only she had stayed strong after his death—instead of falling for the stockbroker Paul had trusted with their investments, the man who had trashed her, driven her apart from her sister, and killed her daughter's puppy before she finally found the courage to get herself and Jessica away from him.

“Mom, look!” Jessica said, pointing as the whale surfaced. A spout of fine mist shot up, gold in the last light of day. Marisa smiled, to let Jessica know that she saw. But as she gazed across the bay, something on the ferry caught her attention.

The vessel was midway across the passage, the narrow strait leading between the fjord's high, granite cliffs. Its deck was filled with cars and trucks, more people coming to Cape Hawk for the ceili. Some of the drivers and passengers had left their vehicles, to stand along the ferry's railing, to breathe the clear sea air and catch their first notes of the Irish music. A pair of hawks circled overhead, and most of the people looked up to watch them disappear into the thick pine forest.

All except one person—who had caught sight of Marisa, and was standing at the rail, grinning and waving. She gasped at the sight of him.

“Jess, come on!” Marisa called.

She grabbed her daughter's hand, and they ran along the wharf. The fiddles soared into “Geese in the Bog,” and people in the grandstand and on blankets spread over the Cape Hawk Inn's wide green lawn began to clap in time. Marisa spotted Anne and Jude Neill, standing in the gazebo, leaning against the rail. Anne saw what was happening and called to Marisa.