It’s not Baby Day, he doesn’t think. He soon learns it’s Harper’s birthday, her fortieth birthday. She and the Doctor and Fish and Edie, the Surfer’s mother, will celebrate—light the candles, sing, eat cake—but there is something Harper must do first. She and Fish drive out to Cape Poge alone. Fish is confused. Harper has forgotten to bring her fishing pole.

“I know this may seem crazy,” Harper says. “But I’m going to wish Tabitha a happy birthday. She’s standing on the beach at Ram Pasture, on Nantucket, and she is going to wish me a happy birthday.”

Fish stares off into the distance. All he sees is water.

“With me on Cape Poge and Tabitha at Ram Pasture, we are as physically close as we can get while still remaining on our respective islands,” Harper says. She touches her protruding midsection. “She and Franklin are coming over on Friday so that we can close on Billy’s house, but that isn’t our actual birthday. It’s imperative we do this today.” She checks Billy’s watch on her wrist. “I call out to her at three twelve, because that’s when Pony was born. Pony will call out to me at three fourteen, because that’s when I was born.”

Harper cups her hands around her mouth and shouts, “Happy birthday, Tabitha!”

Fish stares off into the distance. Water and more water. People are nuts, he thinks. Even Harper.

But then, just about ninety seconds later, Fish cocks his head. It’s faint—possibly he’s projecting. But no, it’s real—a voice nearly identical to the one he hears every day, but just a little bit different. It’s a nuance only a very perceptive dog would notice.

“Happy birthday, Harper! Happy, happy birthday!”

Fish barks.