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calling Josie “Earmuff Head.” Belinda didn’t say one thing, and she had screamed at T.J. when he called the friend “Slut Wannabe” right to her face.
    His father came into the room. With his hands on his hips, he filled the doorway. Belinda was right behind him. “Hey, hey, hey,” his father said. “Look who’s home.”
    Josie squealed and climbed up his leg. Now he had Belinda on his back and Josie around his neck. People told T.J. he looked just like his father. He didn’t think that was too bad. His father was tan with thick dark hair like Mel Gibson’s.
    “Hi, Dad,” T.J. said. “Have a good trip?”
    “Long and hard, and it’s good to be home.” He unloaded the girls onto the loveseat and took Belinda’s chair.
    “Did you see any whales?” Belinda asked.
    “A couple.”
    “Certain whales are endangered. They get caught in fishermen’s nets, and they could become extinct,” Belinda said.
    “You ought to get a medal for wonderfulness,” T.J. said. “It’s probably on its way right now.”
    “Thank you,” Belinda said, and T.J. had to wonder if she thought he was serious. Belinda was living proof that being a brain had nothing to do with being smart.
    “No Nukes, Save the Whales for Christ,” Dad said.
    Belinda laughed without understanding that their father was teasing her. T.J. could tell by that panicky look in her eye. Their mother came to the door and everyone looked up, even Josie.
    “Dinner’s almost ready,” she said.
    “We held dinner for you, Dad,” Belinda said. “I told her you’d be home in time.”
    “She did,” Mom said.
    “Perfect predictions every time,” T.J. said.
    “Hey, I’m here, aren’t I?” his father asked, oblivious to Belinda’s glaring at T.J..
    Their mother was looking around, trying to decide where to sit. T.J. wished she would sit on Dad’s lap, the way she used to. If there were twenty empty chairs, his mother would sit on his father’s lap. She was heading across the room, away from Dad, to the wing chair. T.J. couldn’t figure out why, but it made him sad that his mother needed a chair now.
    “Here, Mom,” he said, standing, offering his mother the seat nearest to his father.
    “Thanks, sweetie,” his mother said, sounding surprised. She kissed the top of his head and sat down. Now that T.J. had given up his seat, he couldn’t figure out what to do. He looked at his parents and sisters staring silently at the soundless cartoon, and he left the room.

2
    J osie put her feet on the sand, to make sure she could stand with her head above water. Then she put the snorkel back in her mouth, bit down on the rubber, and dove under again. She blinked behind her mask. There was her mother, just a few feet away. Josie fluttered her feet, swimming forward, to take her mother’s hand.
    Under the sea was Josie’s favorite place. Sunlight pierced the clear water and bleached her tan skin pale. Eelgrass swayed in the waves, like mysterious cartoon dancing girls. A school of minnows slashed through the grass. Delicate hermit crabs skittered along the bottom.
    Cass squeezed Josie’s hand. She pointed out a baby shrimp, jetting backward through the water. It seemed so funny that Josie let out a laugh that bubbled to the surface. She wondered if the air contained sound, if someone in a boat could hear laugh bubbles. Underwater, hearing didn’t matter.
    Josie sometimes hoped they would find a school of big fish, like the ones her father caught, the kind that had tiny teeth and ate sea plants. She wouldn’t be scared. She would swim with fish as big as girls. But thinking of big fish suddenly made her stomach flip. T.J. had a shark’s tooth bigger than an arrowhead. He wore it around his neck, hanging from a rawhide shoelace. Thinking of T.J.’s necklace made Josie swim closer to her mother.
    They saw a lobster pot. Its buoy had broken off, and it had drifted in close to shore. Josie and her mother hovered above it. Their arms moved in slow,