“That’s exactly what Mama says. I suppose that’s why she never stops moving. Did your mama spend any time with mine while growing up?”

“I guess. Edna was long gone by the time I was born, and I never thought to ask Mama about her.”

“So many brothers and sisters in Mama’s family. Imagine. Do all the families grow that large in your area?”

“Most families have five or six kids. You’re the lucky one with that whole room to yourself.”

“Not so lucky during storm nights.” Even though Talley had kept her up, it was nice to hear her stirring, breathing, and shifting in her bed. It had made her feel a little less alone.

Talley shrugged. “I suppose being alone takes more practice than I reckoned.”

Ruth jumped off the ship onto the sand and walked around the boat. The tide rolled in, splashing the sides of the timber and washing over her toes.

Talley tucked her hair behind her ears and dropped her gaze to the shells lining the edge of the tide. “There are so many.”

“Mostly clam and oyster shells this time of year. The conchs show up in January.” When Talley looked at her with a questioning expression, Ruth added, “Like the spirally one on my dresser.”

“Do you think I’ll find one of those?”

“Who knows? You never know.”

“I want to take one home to Mama. She can’t see so well now, but she can tell a lot about anything just by touching it.”

“I’ll give you one of my conchs. If she holds it up to her ear and closes her eyes, she can hear the ocean.”

“You serious?”

“Not lying.” Ruth checked her watch and, seeing it was nearly eight, said, “We better get up to the hotel. Time to serve breakfast.”

Talley picked up another shell. “Can we come back later?”

“Sure.” Though the beach would be different. The tides would be higher and likely crashing closer to the wreck. Slowly the ocean would claw back the shells and eventually reclaim the vessel’s remains.

They crossed over the dunes, dropped Talley’s shells off under the house, and rinsed their feet off. By 7:55, they had arrived at the Seaside Resort’s main building.

When they entered the dining room, a few guests were milling around, but most wore bathrobes and carried two cups of coffee as if heading back to their rooms.

There was one man sitting by the pool. He was fully dressed in khakis, a blue Izod short-sleeved shirt, and camel deck shoes. Ink-black hair was slicked back, and a half-smoked cigarette dangled from a marble ashtray as he turned the page of the Norfolk Journal and Guide.

Ruth walked up to her mother, who was carrying a stack of white stoneware plates. “He’s here early.”