I looked toward the water.
The last sunlight moved across it in long gold lines.
“I shouldn’t have made it sound so dramatic.”
“You didn’t.”
“It feels dramatic when I say it out loud.”
“Most true things do.”
I turned back to her.
Ellie was watching me with the same patient attention she had given me underwater.
No pressure.
Just presence.
“What do you think I do?” I asked.
She considered it.
“You said music.”
“I did.”
“You sing and write.”
“Yes.”
“You have a manager who has threatened the Coast Guard.”
“She hasn’t threatened them yet.”
“You have professionally coordinated toothpaste.”
“That was one incident.”
“And you own a shirt that costs more than Hank’s boat.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know boats.”
I smiled despite myself.
“So?”
“So I think you’re successful.”
The word sat gently between us.
Not famous.
Successful.
I could live inside that difference for a little longer.
