We all looked around, and it was like waking up from a spell. The three of us—me, Jesse, and Sonia—stood together in front. Dad was still halfway down the aisle. Sonia put her arms around Jesse’s middle, and he gave her a squeeze. Sheila was folded over in her seat with her head resting on her knees. Mom leaned over my empty chair to put her hand on Sheila’s back. No one knew what to do next.

Uncle Frank went straight to Dad. He took Dad’s hand. Holding on to it, he walked Dad back down the aisle, to us. Their feet on the gravel was the only sound. He gave Dad’s hand to Jesse, who took it. Then Lizette’s grandmother stood up and said, “Let’s get to the important part!”

Dad said to Jesse, “What do you want to do, honey?”

Jesse said, “I want to get married, sweetie.”

And they did. When the judge announced that Dad and Jesse were married, everyone—everyone—stood up and cheered. Sheila didn’t plan that. It just happened.

Dad and Jesse hugged, then Dad and I hugged and Jesse and Sonia hugged, and then Sonia and I hugged, and I swear our sun necklaces clicked together at the exact moment that she whispered, “Sisters.”

Portage

The day we walked home from school together after the colonial breakfast, Jesse told me a story. He was carrying the bucket full of empty oyster shells, swinging it.

“Bea. Did I ever tell you that I was a Boy Scout?”

“You?” I giggled.

“What’s so funny?”

“Don’t they wear little brown suits?”

He smiled. “They’re uniforms.”

I giggled again.

“I loved the Boy Scouts,” Jesse said. “I started when I was little. When I got older, I became a trip leader. We did these wilderness trips in the summertime. I was maybe fourteen when I started doing those. We carried everything we needed, all of our food, the tents, everything, in these giant packs on our backs.”

“Ugh.”

“No, it was great. It was amazing. We hiked and climbed and kayaked, and every night we set up our camp and cooked our food. That food tasted unbelievable. Do you know what portage is?”

I guessed. “Mushrooms?”

He laughed. “It’s when you carry your kayak over land to get to the next piece of water. We carried those boats over our heads, in teams, for miles. It wasn’t easy.

“I led those wilderness trips for years, hiking the same trails over and over. Same woods, same hills, same stretches of river. Every trip, we lined the campers up next to the same big rock and took the same picture. But here’s the thing: no two trips were the same. In fact, they were all incredibly different. You know why?”

“Why?”