“I’m so sorry,” Joe said, looking over at Letty. He knelt down beside the sobbing child. “Come on, Maya. I’ll help you put the minnow back in the water. And then we’ll build a fort. Okay? Like, a cowboys and Indians fort.”

“I’ll help too,” Letty said, scrambling to her feet. She used a towel to dab the snot and sand from the little girl’s face.

“Okay,” Maya said reluctantly. She put her face to the edge of the bucket. “Bye, Minnie.”

“You coming to the cookout tonight?” Joe asked hours later, as they walked up toward the motel from the beach. He had the cooler and beach blanket tucked under one arm, with Maya asleep on his shoulder.

“There’s a cookout?” Letty asked, struggling to keep up with his pace.

“Oh yeah. It’s a Murmuring Surf tradition. The Doughertys always did a Sunday-night cookout for their guests during the season, so Mom just kept it going. We provide the main course. Tonight we’re doing barbecued chicken. All the guests bring a side dish. And their own beverage. Afterward, everybody meets in the rec room for bingo. I’m telling you, it’s a big night.”

“Wish I could,” Letty said. “But I need to get Maya hosed off and into bed. You saw how she wore herself out this afternoon.”

“Pretty sure you could get Isabelle to stay with her. These days she thinks she’s too cool to hang out with all the oldsters for an entire night,” Joe said.

“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think so. I’m not really a guest, am I?”

“You’d be my guest,” Joe said. “But okay, I won’t press it.”

They’d reached a rusty iron gate that separated the public beach from the Murmuring Surf property. Joe turned on a spigot and they rinsed the sand from their feet; then he walked Letty to her unit.

“Here,” she said, reaching out her arms for the drowsy little girl. “I can take her now. Thanks for helping out today.”

“Not a problem,” he said, lowering his voice. “And I’m sorry again about the dead-minnow thing. I mean, I know you told me about her mom, but it didn’t occur to me…”

“It’s okay,” Letty reassured him, retrieving the room key from her beach bag. “She’s four. You saw how she was, five minutes later, splashing in the waves. She was completely over it.”

“And what about you? Her mother was your sister, right?”

“Half sister,” she said. “I mean, we called ourselves sisters, and we were. But no, I’m not over her.” She sighed. “I don’t know if I ever will be.”

She got Maya showered and into pajamas, and fixed her a grilled cheese sandwich for dinner. By six o’clock, she willingly allowed herself to be tucked into bed with Ellie clutched in her arms.