Colleen wasn’t just her dad’s child; to Elizabeth she represented the fact that Gavin had loved another woman, loved her enough to stay in a faraway land and start a new life. Colleen was more than just a newborn her dad had carried home. For Elizabeth, Colleen was a constant reminder of Gavin’s betrayal.

It would take her a lifetime, Colleen knew, to understand what it all meant. But with the clock running out on her dad’s memory, she felt she was losing the chance to fill in the missing pieces of her earliest beginnings.

•   •   •

After returning home, Colleen relieved Bob of “watching” Dad and took her turn to sit with him on the wooden Adirondack chairs set in the grass in the yard, facing the river.

“Hey, Dad.” Colleen patted his hand. “What are you doing?”

He looked up from a magazine and laughed. “Your sister gave me some puzzles to do. But it’s made of numbers, not words, and it might as well be in Greek.”

“Sudoku.” Colleen took the pages from her dad and set them on the ground. “How are you feeling?”

“That’s the worst of it, right? I feel fine until I realize I’m lost. Soon, I know, I won’t know I’m lost, but for right now I do know.” His voice was weak. “I have some things I want to say. Do you mind?”

“Dad, please. Say anything.”

“It must have come as a shock, finding out about your Irish mother.”

“Yes, and no. I always knew there was something . . . askew.”

“Maybe.” He stopped short and placed his hands on his knees, leaned forward to take in a long breath. “Maybe I should have told you sooner. But I promised your mother I would not.”

“Dad, I understand all of that, and I understand your promises to her, and I know it was great pain for her. But why did she let you . . . keep my name?”

He flinched as if she’d slapped him, closed his eyes. “That was never up for discussion. It was your name. It was your mother’s name.” He opened his eyes and there was a flash of Ireland and fire and resoluteness. “I made my amends. I moved and I changed our life and I kept our secret. But your name belonged to you.”

He stood and walked to the river’s edge. Colleen followed, her heart in her throat, danger now seeming to lurk everywhere. It must be like having young children, always aware that the water was as much a danger as a comfort.

“We must stay on the water, my Lena. It is how we are connected to the place you came from, the place where you were born. That’s why New York doesn’t feel right to you.”

“Dad, it does feel right. It’s where my life is.”