“I don’t know,” Altar says. “Check into a hotel?” She laughs. “Niles will probably be in the hospital anyway, and you’ll be at his bedside, so what does it even matter?”

Irene can’t stand to hear another word. She moves to the captain’s seat. Niles is now on his knees on the bow banquette, earbuds in. He’s as still and majestic as a figurehead.

The earbuds, she supposes, are useful for blocking out his mother and sister.

Irene leans in to Huck. “They’re fighting back there.”

Huck nods to let Irene know he’s heard her, but he doesn’t seem to care. Maybe he’s thinking about Agent Vasco. Or, more likely, he’s trying to pick a good spot to anchor and cast. The engine noise makes most conversations impossible and yet the mother and daughter’s discussion has escalated to a screaming match. It’s impossible to ignore them.

“I’ll just ask Dad to pay for it, then!”

“Be my guest! See how far that gets you!”

“…bitter because Misty is way cooler than you…”

“Misty is twenty-six years old. She should be cooler than me…”

“I’m calling him now and telling him to book me a plane ticket home. I don’t want to be here! The only reason we’re here is because of Niles!”

“…selfish little…”

“…I have children, I’m going to love them all equally…”

“…sick, Altar…”

“I don’t care!” Altar screams. “I hate you and I hate Niles!”

Finally, Huck leans over to Irene. “I know it’s difficult, but you have to let them go. They obviously have things to work through.”

Irene wipes away the tears that are rolling down her cheeks. She’s crying for them but also for herself and for all families that have been broken.

Turns out, she’s not as tough as she thought.

When it sounds like Galen and Altar might actually come to blows—Galen grabs Altar’s phone and holds it over her head, threatening to throw it overboard—Irene moves up to the bow with two light tackle rods. She touches Niles on the back.

When he turns to see Irene holding both rods, his face lights up. Irene feels more tears building behind her eyes but she’ll be damned if she’s going to cry in front of Niles.

This last round of chemo is either going to put him in remission or it isn’t.

It’s going to put him in remission, Irene thinks. And right now, she’s going to put this kid on a fish.

A higher power must be with them because on his third cast, Niles gets a bite, and Irene can tell just by the bow of the rod that it’s something big—but what? There aren’t too many big fish to be found inshore, at least not that Irene has experienced firsthand.

Niles has a natural instinct for what to do. He reels with surprising tenacity and lets the spool go when the fish runs. He keeps the rod tip up and the handle pressed into his jutting hipbone. “What’s it gonna be?” Niles asks.