“It’s gonna be hot today,” she said. “Don’t forget to put on some sunscreen.”

Ellie smiled. “I won’t,” she said, but what she was thinking was, Welcome back.

As she made her way over to the harbor entrance, she felt a peculiar buoyancy, a lightness that carried her toward the boat. The sound of the seagulls was bright against the dull rush of the waves, and everything seemed to glint beneath the sun. The morning felt like a mixing bowl just waiting for its ingredients; there was a sense of possibility to it, a promise of something more to come.

When she pushed open the gate that led to the docks, it was to find Graham waiting by the boat, looking unnervingly handsome even in yesterday’s wrinkled clothes. She searched his face for any signs that he’d checked in with Harry during the time they were apart, trying to gauge whether anything had changed, but there was nothing but his usual smile, a smile that seemed to be just for her.

“Ahoy,” he said, lifting a hand as she approached. “Ready to set sail?”

“They were okay with you borrowing it?” she asked as he held out a hand to help her climb aboard. She hopped over the gap between the starboard side of the boat and the dock, landing unsteadily on the wooden baseboards of the interior. It was much bigger than it looked from afar, and older too—not made up to look old, as she’d suspected, but properly old. She’d half expected it to seem fake, more like a movie prop than a real working lobster boat, but other than a few metal cinches attached to the sides to fasten the cameras and hold them steady while filming, it bore no signs of the production.

“Totally fine,” Graham said lightly as he stepped in after her.

The water looked calm, but already Ellie felt the deck swaying beneath her feet, and she held on to Graham’s shoulder as she dropped her backpack onto a wooden bench along the port side. There was a small cabin in front with a glass windshield and an old-fashioned-looking wheel for the captain. In the back, several empty lobster traps knocked against one another, and a few red buoys rolled back and forth in time with the waves.

Ellie stepped over one of the many ropes that were coiled securely at various places along the deck. Up the hill, the sounds of the band drifted down to the water. They would play all day, she knew, and if she were to stop by later this afternoon or even tonight, they would still have the same energy to their songs, which were powerful and brassy and patriotic, the perfect send-off for a sea voyage.

“Ready to go?” she asked Graham, who was examining the many dials at the helm. The key chain that dangled from his hand had a squishy orange float attached, in case it went overboard.

“Sure,” he said, holding it out for her.

But Ellie only stared at it. “I thought you were driving.”

“What?”

She nodded at the key chain, which was still swaying between them. “Aren’t you driving?” she said. “It was your idea.”

Graham shook his head. “It’s a lobster boat,” he said, and when she didn’t respond, he widened his eyes, as if it should be obvious. “You’re from Maine.”

“So you just assume I can drive a lobster boat?”

“Well, yeah,” he said. “Can’t you?”

“Do I look like a lobsterman?” she asked with a frown. “I thought you knew how. I saw you driving the other day.”

He looked at her blankly. “When?”

“When you were filming.”

“It’s a movie,” he said and groaned. “I was acting.”

Ellie sighed. “Well, why would they lend you a boat if you can’t drive it?”

“I never said they lent it to me.”

It took a moment for this to register, and when it did, she reached out and punched his shoulder. “Are you kidding me?” she said. “You stole the keys?”

“I told you,” he explained, rubbing the spot where she’d hit him. “They won’t mind if we borrow it.”

Ellie opened her mouth and then closed it again. She turned around and walked to the far end of the boat, where she stood looking up at the town, trying to decide whether it was too late to get to her mother’s car.

She was still there when Graham appeared at her side.

“It’s okay,” he told her. “I know enough.”

“How?” she asked, without looking at him.

“They had me take a few lessons before the shoot. It’s enough to get us there and back. I just figured you might be more of an expert.”

She turned to face him. “Because I’m from Maine.”

“Because you’re from Maine,” he agreed.

“Well, I’ve been driving Quinn’s ski boat for years,” she said. “But this looks pretty different.”

“We’ll figure it out then,” he said. “Between the two of us.”

“Between the two of us?” she said, and he gave her a sheepish smile.

“Well, mostly you.”

She held out a flattened palm, and he dropped the keys into her hand. “That was some pretty good acting the other day, then,” she told him, “because you looked like a regular sea captain out there.”

“Then you don’t need to worry,” he said, leading her back to the front of the boat. “If you’d seen my other movies, you’d know that I’m also a magician.”

–Uh-oh.

–What?

–I forgot my phone.

–So?

–So how am I supposed to e-mail you now?

–I guess we’ll just have to talk.

Once they were out of the harbor—through the precarious maze of buoys and docks—Graham relaxed. The open water stretched out ahead of them, blue-green waves tipped in white, like some great confection coated with powdered sugar, and the thin line where the paler sky met the darker ocean with perfect symmetry. Everything shimmered under the gaze of the sun, and Graham closed his eyes against the wind and the spray of the wake on either side of the boat as they sliced through the water.

Beside him, Ellie stood with one hand on the wheel, moving it back and forth every so often, the tiniest of adjustments that went unfelt as the boat barreled ahead, leaving behind a trail of white foam. At first, they didn’t speak; the rush of the wind was too loud in their ears. But even without words, there was a complicity to the moment that felt louder than all the rest of it. Together, they had made their escape.

“See?” Graham shouted over the wind, and Ellie cocked her head in his direction. “You’re a pro.”

She shrugged. “Turns out it’s not all that different from a ski boat.”

The last time he’d been out here, Olivia had been the one at his side, and in between takes she’d brushed the flecks of water from her face and scowled. They had only two more days of filming left, and he knew she was excited to get back to L.A. For her, this was nothing but a time-out, an unwelcome break from her regular life, which consisted of photo-ops and fancy parties, manicures and meetings.

But now that Ellie had returned to him, Graham felt the last day approaching with a deep sense of dread. He would miss watching the fishing boats go out in the morning, the way the sun broke across the village green, the sound of the waves that seemed to follow you throughout the town. And, of course, he’d miss Ellie. He didn’t feel ready to say good-bye just yet, and the thought of it was something he’d been chasing from his mind with alarming frequency.