“Well, because your mother has to take care of some things,” he said. “And she thought it would be better for you to be here while she does them.”

“We could help her,” Rose said.

“I know,” he said. “I agree with you, and I'm working on it.” Rose leaned comfortably against his side. She rested her head on his shoulder, not because she was tired, but just because she wanted to. They just stayed like that for a few minutes, looking at Nanny's picture on the screen, and Rose imagined how happy they could be if they could all be together.

“When will things be . . .” She searched for the word. She was thinking that so much happened in life. She had had heart defects, and Dr. Neill only had one arm, and her mother's grandmother was in the hospital, and they were in different places. “When will things be right?” she asked finally.

“I think they are now,” Dr. Neill said.

Rose frowned. She knew what he was thinking. Her mother had always told her to be grateful, to count her blessings. Even when Rose couldn't breathe right or play with her friends, even when she had to stay in the ICU because her heart had too much fluid, even during those hardest times, her mother would press her lips to Rose's ear and whisper, “We are so lucky, because we love each other.”

“You think things are right, now?” Rose asked. “But how can you say that? When we're here, and Mommy and Nanny are at Hubbard's Point?”

Dr. Neill turned away from his computer screen to look her straight in the eye. She knew how important his work was, how much he had been learning about those big waves and strange fish. She knew that he had seen a fishing boat from Cape Hawk, and that he was worried about it. But right now, he was giving Rose every bit of his attention.

“Rose,” he said, “I know that none of it makes sense.”

“Even to you?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“Because you miss her too?”

“More than I've ever missed anyone or anything.”

“But I thought you liked working here—going out to Ghost Hills on Dr. Stanley's boat. . . .”

“That's my job,” Dr. Neill said, smiling. “You and your mother are my life.”

Rose nodded. She knew that it was true; she had felt it for a long time, maybe since the day she was born. He was like her father, in every important way. When other kids talked about their dads, Rose knew deep down, somehow, that she had a father somewhere in the world. But she'd never cared, or asked about him, because Dr. Neill was enough for her.

Just then, Dr. Neill raised his eyes, looked over her head. Rose saw his expression change, and she felt a little thrill—as if a mysterious wind had just started to blow, as if the weather had just changed in some wonderful way.