She stepped into the ocean and imagined her parents’ ashes swirling in the surf. Not wanting to miss out on another family event, Poppy had returned home to the Cape for a week to attend what Noah jokingly called a “DIY funeral.” They’d walked down to Drummer Cove at high tide and stood in a semicircle. Brad played “I’ll Fly Away” on Ed’s mandolin. Noah read lines of poetry in Connie’s poetry-reading voice. It was funny at first, until he stumbled on some lines by Edna St. Vincent Millay: “‘Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind; / Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave. / I know.’” He hesitated. “‘But I do not approve. I am not resigned.’”

Poppy admired Noah’s comfort with himself. He reminded her of her father, weeping openly while everyone else tried to hold it together. Avery, soulful and wise, had become Noah’s sidekick. She held his large hand in her small one. And Michael was sensitive to Noah the way a father might have been.

Poppy said, “They’ve always been and still are part of this universe. They’re on a new journey now, a progression of their souls, taking the growth from this life into the next one.”

Ann had tried hard not to laugh out loud—so hard that she snorted. Her relationship with Poppy was still tender, though—tender enough that Poppy saw a brief look of concern cross her sister’s face. How far was too far? What was appropriate anymore? Where were their borders? “Do you really believe that, Pops?”

“Sure. I mean, I like the idea of living forever, and of reincarnation,” Poppy said. “What’s the point of learning all this stuff and then just, you know, having it all end?”

Brad leaned against her. “I can feel them here with us. I see them in all of your faces. They’re here, they are.” The wind picked up as he said this, a warm breeze that felt like an embrace.

Michael wiped his eye with the back of his sleeve. “I feel them too. I’ve missed them for such a long time. Now I’ll miss them forever.”

When it came time to toss the ashes in the ocean, they realized nobody had thought to bring anything to put the ashes in, so Noah found the empty shell of a horseshoe crab and they took turns sprinkling them into the cove, one by one, careful not to allow the ashes to blow back in their faces.

“I wish we could always be like this,” Avery said. “I wish we could, like, sew our arms together.”

“I think that’s sweet?” Ann said. “Or creepy?”