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bobbed to the surface, gasping for breath and laughing.

Hen dog-paddled up to them. “Don’t do that! I thought you were drowning.”

Beck put his arm around his sister and kept his other arm around Ari. “This is what we were doing. Hold your breath. One, two, three.” Hugging them securely against his sides, he dove under a rising wave. They were floating underwater, belly downward, their faces close and tinted green by the watery light. Beck tugged them against him and kissed Ari on her mouth and Hen on her cheek. They bobbed up to the surface, gasped for air, and Hen giggled and splashed in the water, looking triumphant.

“We were kissing,” Hen yelled.

Michelle swam up. “Hen, you’ve been in long enough. Come on out and warm up. You, too, Ari. We haven’t had a chance to talk today.”

They all swam to the rope ladder. Beck struck off toward the distance, swimming powerfully and fast. Mr. and Mrs. Hathaway were already back on board. Hen’s mother held a fat towel in her hands as she reached out to wrap her youngest daughter.

“Your teeth are chattering,” Mrs. Hathaway said. “Here, sit on my lap. You’ll warm up soon.”

“We’ll make hot chocolate,” Michelle said. She tossed Ari a towel and went down into the cabin.

Ari adored the cabin, with everything so tidy and compact. Bright red enamel cups, bowls, and plates were strapped securely above the gimballed two-burner propane cooktop. Michelle deftly took a pan from a cabinet, a box of hot chocolate mix from inside a hanging webbed hammock, and added milk from the mini-fridge above the sink.

“I’ll take a beer,” Mr. Hathaway called down.

“I will, too,” Michelle said. “Want a beer, Ari?”

“No, thanks, I’d prefer hot chocolate with Hen.”

Michelle laughed. “That’s what you get for spending so much time with my brother. I tell you, the man is a seal.”

“At least he’s not a shark,” Ari joked.

“Oh, Ari, no, Beck’s not a shark at all,” Michelle said, taking the remark seriously. “He’s a really good guy. And I can tell he seriously likes you.”

Ari said softly, “I seriously like him.”

They smiled at each other, as if they had a secret.

When the hot chocolate was ready, Ari brought a cup up to Hen and to Mrs. Hathaway. Michelle brought her father a beer, kept a beer for herself, and handed a cup of hot chocolate to Ari. Beck appeared, climbing up the rope ladder onto the boat, water streaming down from him, his board shorts plastered against his legs. Ari couldn’t help but admire every inch of his physique. There was no hiding bulges in a bathing suit, she thought, and glanced down at her own torso, her belly still as flat as always.

Beck toweled off and went down to get a beer. The family relaxed in the sun while Mr. and Mrs. Hathaway entertained everyone with tales of races they’d won or lost over the years. Ari did her best not to gaze longingly at Beck. She asked Hen about her summer events while they drank their hot chocolate.

As they sailed back to their buoy in the harbor, Ari was impressed at how the family all worked together, taking orders from Mr. Hathaway, who clearly was skipper of the boat. She wondered, had her own family sailed, would they ever have become closer, a better family? The boat skipped along over sun-tipped waves and the breeze made the sails flare like birds glad to be set free. Ari felt set free as well, somehow released from who she was in the past and who she was now…and who she was on her way to becoming.

The club launch puttered out to take them ashore. Once they were all on the boardwalk, Mrs. Hathaway invited Ari to come to their house for a light meal.

Before Ari could reply, Beck said, “Sorry, Mom. We’ve already made plans.”

“I want to be with you!” Hen shouted, jumping up and down in front of Beck.

“Not tonight,” Beck said.

“Awww.” Hen pouted.

Mrs. Hathaway put her hand on Hen’s shoulder. “Sweetie, you’ve got to come home and take a warm shower. You’ve got dance camp tomorrow.”

“Oh, yeah!” Hen did a pirouette and hurried to the car.

Michelle was a few steps away from them, texting. “Have fun, guys,” she called vaguely to Beck and Ari. She wandered off toward the parking lot.

“Let’s go out to ’Sconset and get sandwiches at Claudette’s,” Beck said.

“Good idea. I’m too windblown to enter a restaurant,” Ari told him.

“You look perfect,” Beck said. “Although your nose might be a shade redder than your lips.”

“Darn. I put sunblock on. Give me a moment.” Ari went into the clubhouse and straight through to the ladies’ restroom. She grinned at her reflection in the mirror. Her nose was sunburned, and so were her cheeks. Her hair had become a bird’s nest. Her shoulders were red and hot to the touch. It was going to take a long shower before she could look normal again, but that didn’t bother her at all. She was glowing from more than the sunburn.

They didn’t talk as they drove out the Milestone Road to the small rotary at the entrance to ’Sconset. After ordering sandwiches and enormous sodas—they were thirsty after sailing—they walked down to the beach and sat in the sand, eating and looking out at the Atlantic.

“I love your family,” Ari told Beck. “I wish my family were like yours.”

“Oh, you only catch our good side,” Beck told her. “I used to argue with Michelle twenty times a day when we were growing up. We’d get in some vicious hair-pulling fights.”

Ari laughed. “That’s hilarious.”

“We played tricks on each other, too. Like I put sand in her bed and she put just the perfect amount of water in mine. When Hen came along, Michelle and I would compete to see who Hen liked better.”

Ari sighed. “I wish I had a sibling.”

“Yeah, I get it. As much grief as I got from Michelle, I love her. And Hen hung the moon.”

“When I get married,

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