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sorry I’m not there with you,” he said, but Julia felt sad because she knew he was saying it because he thought he should, not because he really meant it.
    “Thanks,” she said. “Hope it goes well tomorrow. Here’s Jenny.”
    “Hey, Dad! It’s howling here. Mom and I are about to go swimming again.” As she spoke, Jenny watched Julia for a reaction. “Yeah, it’s dark, and the waves are huge. We’ll be careful.” Jenny smiled. “Okay, have a good night, Dad. Too bad you’re not here. I really miss you.”
    She hung up the phone and turned to Julia, waiting.
    “Yeah,” Julia said. “Let’s do it.”
    This was just the storm’s front edge—it would get much worse later. They put on dry bathing suits, but Jenny paused before running out the door. She scribbled a note, found an empty wine bottle.
    “Mom, you write something, too,” she said.
    Julia read what Jenny had written:
Hello from Black Hall, Connecticut, USA! My mother and I are about to go swimming in Long Island Sound in Hurricane Noreen. We hope this note reaches you wherever you may be . . . hurricane currents travel far and wide. Write us back here: Julia and Jenny Hughes, P.O. Box 198, Black Hall CT 06371
    Julia wrote:
Tonight we are mermaids, and the sea is ours. We’re a force to be reckoned with. Mothers and daughters forever!
    They sealed the note in the green wine bottle, stuck the cork in as tight as it would go, and headed down the path with flashlights, Bonnie beside them, barking at the wind.
    When they reached the sand, they felt the hurricane plowing into them. Holding hands, they stood knee-deep in the surf; the tide was going out, so they walked a few more yards before dunking in. Jenny held the bottle. The waves were steady, big and beautiful, with white tops that glistened even in the darkness. Julia saw Jenny let the bottle go. It bobbed on the surface, the tide and currents sweeping it to who knew where.
    They swam and dove and played in the waves. Being a beach girl had no expiration date; Julia loved the storm energy as much as Jenny did. They hadn’t even brought towels. Heading home, they felt the rain wash the salt from their hair and bodies.
    By the time they reached the house, the power was out. They lit candles and sat on the porch, listening to the storm build and build.

    Julia held on to that hurricane memory. While Bonnie wandered through the lemon trees, Julia headed for the pool and dove in. The water cooled her skin, calmed her heart. Seeing Lion had undone her in ways she’d never expected. Visiting his house alone had made her feel like a child again, as if she’d never had Jenny. And seeing him get old, so obviously in love and longing for Graciela, had made her sad. More than anything, she still felt troubled by the talk she’d had with Roberto earlier. Five years without Jenny, and for him five without Rosa. She swam hard, doing laps, burning off the emotion. It was a saltwater pool, and closing her eyes, she could almost imagine that she was swimming in the ocean.
    Coming up for breath, she treaded water, glancing around for Bonnie. Not seeing her, she whistled. The air felt soft on her skin. She smelled lemons and pine, and listened for the sound of her collie nosing through underbrush. Instead she heard human footsteps. They stopped just outside the circle of light, and she felt someone watching her.
    “Hello?” she said.
    “I didn’t want to disturb you.” She recognized Roberto’s voice before he appeared, Bonnie at his side.
    “You’re not,” she said, although she felt self-conscious in the bright pool. It was late, at least 11 p.m., and she knew he rose early. “Did the lights wake you up?”
    “No,” he said. “I was waiting . . .” He hesitated. “I wasn’t sleeping. I heard Bonnie outside my cabin.”
    “Sorry about that.”
    “Don’t worry for me,” he said. “But for Bonnie. The coyotes are out at night. I’m afraid one of them could take her