I washed my hands at the sink. Dad handed me a wooden spoon without a word, and I took over stirring the sauce while he drained the pasta. We moved around each other easily, the kitchen choreography we'd developed over the past few weeks. Mom hummed something while she worked, a tune I didn't recognize but Dad seemed to. His shoulders relaxed slightly.
Dinner was quiet. Mom asked polite questions about where I worked, if I was from around here, whether I liked the weather. Dad answered for me sometimes, gently redirecting when she got confused about whether we'd already eaten.
After she went upstairs to watch TV, Dad and I did the dishes.
"She thought you were the mailman this morning," he said after a while. "Asked if you had a package for her."
"What'd you say?"
"Told her the mail already came. She seemed satisfied with that." He dried a plate and set it in the cabinet. "It's easier when I don't correct her. Just go with whatever she thinks is happening."
I nodded and kept scrubbing.
"You okay?" he asked.
I thought about Mom not knowing my face. About overhearing strangers talk about Elena and Caleb like it was old news.
"Yeah," I said. "Just tired."
Dad knew I was lying, but he didn't push. Just handed me another dish.
"Get some sleep, son."
I went to bed.
The lamp on the nightstand still had Elena's hair tie wrapped around it. Purple, faded. She'd left it there one night after sneaking in through my window. That was senior year.
I turned off the light.
CHAPTER 24: ELENA
"Hold it steady."
Caleb's voice was low, right behind me. I held the cabinet door in place while he marked where the hinges would go, his pencil moving with precision.
"Like this?"
"Yeah. Perfect." He stepped back, examined the angle. "You're good at this."
"I'm just holding things."
"You're doing it right. Makes my job easier."
I watched him drill the pilot holes. No wasted motion, everything deliberate. I liked watching him work. Liked being around him, if I was honest. When he'd stopped by Wednesday, I tagged along on his lumber run. When he mentioned starting at seven today, I scrapped our noon plan and showed up early.
He didn't question it. Just handed me coffee and put me to work.
Now it was past two and the kitchen was taking shape around us, cabinet by cabinet.
He straightened, rolled his shoulder slightly. "You don't have to stay. I can finish the rest."
"Are you trying to get rid of me?"
"No. Just…" He gestured at the cabinets, the tools scattered across the floor. "This isn't exactly fun."
"Says who?"
He looked at me like he wasn't sure if I was serious.
