Garrett closed the cabin door and made his way to her.

“This is the best day we’ve spent together in a long time,” Catherine said softly.

“It seems like we’ve both been too busy lately, and . . . I don’t know . . .” She trailed off. “I just wanted to do something special for us.”

As she spoke, it seemed to Garrett that his wife wore the same tender expression she’d had on their wedding night.

Garrett sat beside her and poured the wine. “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy at the shop lately,” he said quietly. “I love you, you know.”

“I know.” She smiled and covered his hand with her own.

“It’ll be better soon, I promise.”

Catherine nodded, reaching for her wine. “Let’s not talk about that right now. Right now, I want to enjoy us, just the two of us. Without any distractions.”

“garrett?”

Startled, Garrett looked at Theresa. “I’m sorry . . . ?” he began.

“are you okay?” She was staring at him with a mixture of concern and puzzlement.

“I’m fine. . . . I was just remembering something I have to take care of,” Garrett improvised. “Anyway,” he said, straightening and folding his hands over one raised knee. “Enough about me. If you don’t mind, Theresa . . . tell me something about yourself.”

Puzzled and a little unsure about what he wanted to know exactly, she started from the beginning, touching on all the basic facts in a little more detail—her upbringing, her job, her hobbies. Mostly, though, she talked about Kevin and what a wonderful son he was and how she regretted not being able to spend more time with him.

Garrett listened as she spoke, not saying much. When she finished he asked, “And you said you were married once?”

She nodded. “For eight years. But David—that’s his name—seemed to lose heart in the relationship, somehow . . . he ended up having an affair. I just couldn’t live with that.”

“I couldn’t, either,” Garrett said softly, “but it still doesn’t make it any easier.”

“No, it didn’t.” She paused and took a drink of her soda. “But we’re on friendly terms, in spite of everything. He’s a good father to Kevin, and that’s all I want from him now.”

A large swell passed beneath the hull, and Garrett turned his head to make sure the anchor would hold. When he turned back Theresa said: “Okay, your turn. Tell me about you.”

Garrett also started from the beginning, talking about growing up in Wilmington as an only child. He told her that his mother had died when he was twelve, and because his father spent most of his time on the boat, he pretty much grew up on the water. he spoke about his college days—omitting some of the wilder stories that might provide a misleading impression—and described what it had been like to start the shop and what his typical days were like now. Strangely, he said nothing at all about Catherine, over which Theresa could only wonder.

As they talked on, the sky turned to black and fog began to settle in around them. With the boat rocking slightly in the waves, a kind of intimacy descended upon them. The fresh air, the breeze in their faces, and the gentle movement of the boat all conspired to ease their earlier nervousness.

Afterward Theresa tried to remember the last time she’d had a date like this. Not once did she feel any pressure from Garrett to see him again, nor did he seem to expect something more from her this evening. Most of the men she met in Boston seemed to share the attitude that if they went out of their way to have a pleasant evening, then something was owed in return. It was an adolescent attitude—but typical nonetheless—and she found the change refreshing.

When they reached a quiet point in the conversation, Garrett leaned back and ran his hands through his hair. He closed his eyes and seemed to be savoring a silent moment for himself. While he was doing that, Theresa quietly put the used plates and napkins back into the basket to keep them from blowing into the ocean. When Garrett was ready, he rose from his seat.

“I think it’s about time we start back,” he said, almost as if regretting that the trip was coming to an end.

A few minutes later the boat was under way again, and she noticed that the wind was much stronger than it had been earlier. Garrett stood at the wheel, keeping Happenstance on course. Theresa stood next to him with her hand on the railing, running through their conversation again and again in her head. Neither of them spoke for a long while, and Garrett Blake found himself wondering why he felt so off balance.

On their last sail together, Catherine and Garrett talked quietly for hours, enjoying the wine and dinner. The sea was calm, and the gentle rise and fall of the swells were comforting in their familiarity.

Later that night, after making love, Catherine lay by Garrett’s side, skimming her fingers across his chest, saying nothing.

“What are you thinking?” he asked finally.

“Just that I didn’t think it was possible to love someone as much as I love you,” she whispered.

Garrett ran his finger down her cheek. Catherine’s eyes never left his.

“I didn’t think it was possible, either,” he answered softly. “I don’t know what I’d ever do without you.”

“Will you make me a promise?”

“Anything.”

“If anything ever does happen to me, promise me that you’ll find someone else.”

“I don’t think I could love anyone except you.”

“Just promise me, okay?”

It took a moment to answer. “All right—if it makes you happy, I promise.”

He smiled tenderly.

Catherine snuggled into him. “I’m happy, Garrett.”

when the memory finally faded, Garrett cleared his throat and touched Theresa’s arm with his hand to get her attention. He pointed toward the sky. “Look at all this,” he said finally, doing his best to keep the conversation neutral. “Before they had sextants and compasses, they used the stars to navigate the seas. Over there, you can see Polaris. It always points due north.”

Theresa looked up into the sky. “How do you know which star it is?”

“You use marker stars. Can you see the Big Dipper?”

“Sure.”

“If you draw a straight line from the two stars that make up the tip of the spoon, they’ll point to the North Star.”

Theresa watched as he pointed out the stars he was talking about, musing about Garrett and the things that interested him. Sailing, diving, fishing, navigation by stars—anything to do with the ocean. Or anything, it seemed, that would enable him to be alone for hours on end.

With one hand, Garrett reached for the navy blue raincoat he’d left near the wheel earlier and slipped it on. “The Phoenicians were probably the greatest ocean explorers in history. In 600 B.C. they claimed to have sailed around the continent of Africa, but no one believed that they had done it because they swore that the North Star disappeared halfway through their voyage. But it had.”

“Why?”

“Because they entered the southern hemisphere. That’s how historians know they actually did it. Before then, no one had ever seen that happen before, or if they had, they’d never recorded it. It took almost two thousand years before they were proved right.”

She nodded, imagining their faraway voyage. She wondered why she never learned such things growing up and wondered about the man who had. And suddenly she knew exactly why Catherine had fallen in love with him. It wasn’t that he was unusually attractive, or ambitious, or even charming. he was partly those things, but more important, he seemed to live life on his own terms. There was something mysterious and different about the way he acted, something masculine. And that made him unlike anyone she’d ever met before.