I had worked at the Brenner yard for two years and never once eaten at their table.
On Sunday I stood on the porch with a dish in my hands and my nails scrubbed clean.
Elaine: There you are. Come in out of that wind.
Elaine took the dish and then took my arm, like I might change my mind and run.
The dining room smelled like roast chicken and lemon, and the table was set with cloth napkins.
Elaine: Drew said you'd come. I set you a place.
Drew pulled out the chair beside his and grinned at me.
Drew: Right here, babe. Mom moved the whole table for you.
Under the cloth, his hand found my knee and squeezed.
Elaine set a small thing down by my glass after the plates went round.
A thin silver bracelet, old, worn smooth at the clasp.
Elaine: My mother wore this. Then me. The women in this family wear it.
She fastened it herself. Her fingers were warm and sure against my wrist.
Elaine: There. Now you match.
I looked down at the silver and wanted it to mean what she said it meant.
Gerald: About time this table had somebody who knows a fuel line from a fishing line.
Gerald laughed at his own joke, and everyone laughed with him.
For one whole minute I was inside something with walls and a roof and a place for me.
The front door opened, and the room went quiet in a way that had nothing to do with me.
Callum stood in the doorway with a duffel bag on his shoulder and stubble like he had not slept in a week.
He did not look at his mother. He did not look at Drew.
He looked at me.
Not a glance. A long, flat stare, like I was a bill he had not agreed to pay.
Elaine: Callum. Baby. You didn't say you were coming.
Callum: I'm here.
Elaine: Sit down. This is Alina. She runs the office.
He set his bag by the wall and pulled out the chair across from me.
He sat. He did not say my name.
Callum: I know who she is.
My face went hot, and I did not know what I had done to earn it.
Drew's hand was still on my knee, but it had gone still.
Drew: Cal. Long trip?
Callum: Long enough.
Then Drew turned my face and kissed me at his mother's table.
Not soft. He never kissed soft when he had something to prove.
His hand slid into my hair and held my head where he wanted it.
I kissed him back. I did not care who was watching.
When I opened my eyes, Callum was watching.
His jaw was tight, and he had not looked away once.
Drew: That's for the bracelet.
Then he let go of me and turned to his brother, and my knee went cold where his hand had been.
Gerald asked about the yard, and Drew started telling the story of the four o'clock charter.
Drew: I had it covered. Alina took the shift. She's cheaper than a deckhand and she never says no.
He said it smiling, like it was a compliment he had paid for.
Gerald laughed. Elaine laughed her small, soft laugh.
My wrist burned under the silver.
Drew: What? It's true.
Callum did not laugh.
He sat there with his fork in his hand and watched me.
I could not tell if he was disgusted by the joke or by the girl who sat still for it.
I put my napkin down and stood.
Alina: I'll help with the plates.
Nobody stopped me. Drew was already talking to his father again.
Callum: Does she always do that?
Drew: She likes to be useful.
I stood in the doorway with the plates in my arms and looked back.
Callum was still watching me. He had not stopped.
If he wanted nothing to do with me, why did he watch me like that?