Another difficult choice had been made—Hallie and the girls would move in with Gavin. Although it seemed a simple solution, it wasn’t. It was a decision fraught with heartache, and Dad asking again and again, Why? Why are you moving in? And Hallie having to explain again and again—I’ve left Walter. And their dad becoming concerned and upset once more.

But at this moment, out on the water, Gavin showed no concern for anything. His face was smooth and his grin relaxed, coming and going as easily as the clouds moving across the late afternoon sky. It was hot, yes, but they were accustomed to the August heat, and floating on the water was a perfect cure—the breeze whipping, the water cooling. A sailboat eased by and the man at the helm waved, and then a motorboat passed, pulling a pair of teenage boys on an inflatable tube, both screaming and loving the simple danger of being tossed off and into the water. The wake rocked them all back and forth as they held on to the sides of their own boat.

Shane slowed and drew near to one of the exposed sandbars, where spartina grass swayed, summer green and bent to the breeze. The tip of the sandbar, always exposed, was crusted with bleached oyster shells, tinkling like wind chimes in the wake of the tide. Shane expertly maneuvered the boat. There was the clanging of metal on metal as he yanked out the anchor and then the soft thud as he dropped it into the sand off the bow. From under the bench Colleen withdrew the cooler where she’d stashed a thermos of lemonade and bottles of water.

They jumped off the boat into the shin-deep water without talking, and with the practiced synchronicity of childhood. Hallie took the few steps to the sand line and dropped a blanket, stained and full of holes from its long and loving use. The rest of them ambled slowly to the blanket and then sat, chatting about the beauty of the breeze and what a stunning day it was for August when, without preamble, Hallie opened the discussion.

“Dad, we need you to tell us the truth about Ireland.” She drew her knees to her chest in a silhouette so like her childhood self that Colleen thought maybe they had traveled back in time. Soon Mother would appear from behind the grasses carrying a wicker basket full of cut-up sandwiches, potato chips and apple slices, which would all soon be crunchy with sand.

“Hallie.” Shane spat her name and leaned forward, digging his hands into the sand. “That’s not the best way to start.”

“Start what?” Gavin sat with his hands behind him, propping himself in a half-reclining position on the blanket. “Am I being ambushed here? Are you going to leave me on this island to swim home?” His attempt at humor fell flat and into silence.