"You've checked your phone three times in the last five minutes."
I set my phone face-down on the counter.
Dad smiled and kept carving.
Headlights cut across the driveway and I looked out the window. Caleb's truck, right on time. Scout's face was visible in the passenger window.
"He brought Daisy’s brother," I said.
"Good. She’s been pacing."
I opened the door before he knocked. Caleb stood on the porch with a bottle of wine in one hand, Scout's leash in the other. He looked nervous. Not much, but enough that I could tell.
"Hey," he said.
I kissed him. Quick, but enough to ground us both.
"Ready?" I asked.
"Yeah."
Daisy came bounding to the door, saw Scout, and immediately the two of them were tangled together, tails going. Caleb let Scout off the leash and they tore into the living room.
"Figured they'd keep each other busy," he said.
"Smart thinking."
We walked into the kitchen. Dad turned from the counter, wiped his hands, extended one to Caleb.
"Caleb Wright," Dad said. "Those shelves you built are still the best thing in my workshop."
"Elena says you're still working on your grandmother's place."
"Been at it about two years now."
"That's dedication." Dad's handshake was firm, his eyes assessing. "Your grandmother was a hell of a woman. Tough as nails."
"She was," Caleb said, and something in his face softened. "Raised me when my folks couldn't."
Dad nodded, understanding passing between them. "She did a damn good job."
We sat down to eat, Dad at one end of the table, me and Caleb on either side. The food made its way around—roast, potatoes, beans. Dad poured wine while the wind rattled the windows.
"Storm's supposed to hit tonight," Dad said. "You see the forecast?"
"Yeah. Should be a big one."
"You get that porch reinforced before it came through?"
Caleb cut into his meat. "Finished it Tuesday. Just in time."
"Good timing."
They talked about the house after that. What Caleb had done, what was left. Dad asked about joinery, about whether Caleb was using original materials or modern replacements. Caleb answered easily, no pretense, just straightforward talk about the work.
I watched them. Dad leaning back in his chair, wine glass in hand, relaxed. Caleb meeting his questions without trying too hard. Their conversation settled into an easy rhythm..
"You hunt?" Dad asked.
