“He really does love you,” Mom said. “So much, honey. I hope he’ll be able to show you that someday.”

And when they got back home and Mitch hugged Annabelle, she knew deep in her gut that she could quit swimming forever, and she and Mitch would find new things to bond over. He would ruffle her hair and blow her kisses, anyway.

“It can be tough stuff, being a dad,” he said. “I know yours disappointed you today, but I want you to know: I’ve done my share of disappointing things, too.”

She didn’t know what he meant at first.

But then she remembered his daughter Maura at the pool last summer, when he was criticizing the parents who let their kids wear swimmies. How she said he wasn’t around to watch her learn to swim when she was a kid. And she thought of that boy at the coffee shop, Finn. How Finn was getting a different version of her dad than she had. One that hummed and grinned and got tan in the summer.

It wasn’t really fair, the idea that she was getting a version of Mitch that his own daughters hadn’t. But he was trying to make things right with them. He called them every Sunday and agonized over how to make things special whenever they visited.

“Well, you’ve never disappointed me,” she said. “Right back atcha, kiddo,” he replied. “Never.”

Chapter 32

Later that week, Annabelle made a plan to meet Elisa and Kayla at Beach Buzz after one of Elisa’s shifts.

It was a rainy day, so the coffee shop was extra busy, but they pulled an extra chair over to a two-person table by the window.

All three of them were quiet when they first sat down, and then all three of them started speaking at the same time.

“So, listen,” Elisa started at the same time as Kayla said, “We didn’t mean to upset you,” and Annabelle said, “I’m really sorry about the other night.”

“Jinx!” Elisa called out, and they all laughed.

Then they were quiet again, not wanting to cut each other off. Annabelle thought of the orientation she, Jeremy, and Mia had gone to at the Academy before sixth grade, with all the other day students. They did this activity where they had to count to ten as a group, but they couldn’t plan out what order they would go in, and they had to start over any time two people said a number at the same time.

They’d messed up again and again until Mia had taken over, counting to ten as fast as she could all by herself. When the admissions person had pointed out that the idea was to work together, Mia had said, “We did! I said the numbers and everybody else didn’t interrupt me.”

Annabelle channeled some of sixth-grade Mia’s confidence and blurted out what she wanted to say.

“You were right about Connor. About how he was acting with me. It didn’t mean anything. I should have listened to you, and I shouldn’t have just left.”