The next morning, their eyes swollen and bleary, the sisters sat on the back stoop of the house under the fluttering awning, watching Shane begin the tree house renovation. They’d offered to help him, but he’d shooed them away. The pub would be closed for at least three days, and Shane had decided that now was the time to mend and replace what had been destroyed by years of neglect.

Rosie and Sadie ran through the yard perfecting their cartwheels.

Colleen slipped her hand into her sister’s. “Dad’s ashes,” she said.

“We’ll have them tomorrow.” Hallie said this so quietly it might have been a secret. “Shane picked out a beautiful wooden box for now, until we decide when to . . .”

“Scatter them.” Colleen finished the sentence for her.

“Yes.”

“I’ve been thinking about it and I think we should wait.” Colleen released her sister’s hand and shifted to face her.

Hallie lifted her eyebrows. “For how long?”

“For as long as it takes us to settle into this grief, and for all of us to be together again.”

“Again?” Hallie broke eye contact and turned away, glancing across the water as a kayaker paddled past, disturbing the water into silvery rays of light.

“Yes. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”

“I thought you might leave again.” Hallie shifted to stand and Colleen stayed her with her hand.

“I’m not running away, Hallie. I’m not leaving you or the girls or Shane. I’ve been asked to write a memoir based on my ten travel tips and I’ve agreed.”

“Why would you need to leave to do that? Isn’t this just about the most perfect place to write?”

“The last tip is about going home. I have to figure out what that word means to me, what home really is.”

“How can you even ask? It’s here. Right here in Watersend.”

“That’s true in so many ways. But now that I know about Dad’s time in Ireland, now that I know about the first Colleen . . . my birth mother . . . I need to go to the place where I was born. You get that, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Hallie nodded and her gaze wandered to her daughters. “I admit it is easier for me. My home is here. Home for me is now defined by wherever my girls are.”

“Promise me this. Please don’t make plans for Dad or his ashes until I return. Okay?”

“I promise.”

Colleen stared at her sister, weighed the words inside her mind before she said them, making sure she meant them. “I trust you.”