Mano’s wife, Kailani, and Maile had been best friends through high school. He and Maile had gone steady through their junior and senior years, and everyone assumed they would marry right after graduating, as so many other local kids did. Instead, Daniel left for school in Chicago. They tried to stay together through his first year away, but when Daniel returned the following summer it became awkward between them. He was enamored of his new life in a big city and they no longer seemed to fit. Before he returned to Chicago, they had agreed to take a break. At the time his sadness was quieted by his ambition. “You have to choose what you keep and what you let go of in life,” his mother said, remaining neutral, though he knew she already thought of Maile as a daughter. “Just be certain, yeah, I don’t want you to regret it later on.”

Part of him always had.

“Did Kailani say how she’s doing?” Daniel asked. He saw her again, thin and dark-eyed, with the prettiest smile he’d ever seen.

Wilson had cut the engine, and the sudden quiet was soothing. The boat swayed from side to side as Mano gathered the nets on deck.

“Maile’s good,” he said. “She came back with a teaching certificate. Always smart, yeah. She’s staying with her cousin for now.”

Daniel hesitated. “Didn’t she get married?”

Over the years, Daniel just wanted the best for Maile. He’d made his choice, as his mother said. Still, it bothered him to know that she’d married someone else. He was always busy in Chicago and had a few convenient relationships, but none that came close to serious. Now the thought of seeing Maile again brought a warm flush of happiness.

Mano shrugged. “Last I heard, she broke it off,” he said. “You’ll have to ask Kailani for the details. She’s been asking why you haven’t come by yet.”

“Tell her I’ll be over soon,” he said, and smiled.

Daniel helped Mano hook the nets up to the wench and power block before they waved for Wilson to lower them into the water. All the while he tried to remain steady at the news.

Maile wasn’t married.

* * *

By the time the sun rose, Daniel helped the brothers pull in the nets, heavy with a load of flailing tuna, the rough rope burning against his palms. It felt good exerting a different set of muscles after so many years away. Daniel needed this. Everything seemed alive with movement, the deck bobbing from side to side, the rise and the fall, the creaks and groans of the boat. They stood watching the fish thrash around down in the hold, gasping for water, the silvery glint of skin and scales reflecting off the sunlight before Wilson threw another bucket of salt water over them and closed the hatch.

“Good catch, braddahs,” he said, grinning at them.