They were renovating a turn-of-the-century kitchen, taking out the pine cabinets installed in the fifties and replacing them with built-in custom maple. Sharon Jenkins, the homeowner, was big on “authenticity” as long as she didn’t have to give up any storage or workspace. Joe spent more time in the library than he ever had in high school, poring over books and old catalogs, trying to capture the feel of the period, imagining the kind of kitchen his mom would like. He’d showed Rob his sketches—shelves modeled after a Hoosier cupboard that integrated with the cabinets, a sturdy worktable to replace the island. Rob priced out the changes and presented the revised design to Mrs.Jenkins, who promptly hugged Joe. Kind of embarrassing, that. It was only nine yearssince he and Tyler Kelly got busted taking her husband’s boat out for a joyride. But Joe couldn’t deny it felt good, having his work accepted. Seeing his ideas take shape, knowing he could bring them to life with his hands. Last night he’d had this idea to hide the refrigerator, framing it in panels like an icebox.
First, though, they had to pull the old cabinets.
Joe braced, holding the upper unit steady as Rob removed the screws anchoring the bottom.
“Saw Brittany Wilson in Doud’s Market the other day,” Rob remarked.
Joe managed not to drop the cabinet. Rob meant well, he reminded himself. Taking a fatherly interest. Joe eased the cabinet away from the wall. The wood had fused to the paint in spots, so he pulled out his putty knife, prying gently.
“You want to watch your step there,” Rob warned.
Joe wasn’t sure if he was talking about the wall or Brittany. “Got it.”
He lowered the cabinet, and the two of them maneuvered it through the door and outside. At least they were alone today. The Pest was off with her buddy Daanis, doing whatever it was teenage girls did when they were together. He tried not to think about it much. Anne—bright, chatty, going places—was another interruption he did not want, another distraction he couldn’t afford.
The thing was, Brittany needed Joe, too. Or she said she did. She’d come back to the island twelve credits short of a degree, as beautiful and dissatisfied as ever, looking to do something with her life, she said. Turned out one of the things she wanted to do was Joe. It felt like high school all over again. But Britt was hard to say no to, especially when they were naked.
He carried the cabinet past the scrap pile and loaded it into his handcart.
“What are you doing with that?” Rob asked.
“Mom wants more shelves for her cookbooks.”
The simple project made him feel like he was working for a merit badge or something. After his dad left, his mom had wanted Joe to join the Scouts. For a positive male role model, she’d said. Joe used to watch them sometimes, scrambling over the island in summertime, raising the flag at the fort. But the nearest pack was in St. Ignace, and getting to and from meetings at night had proven too big a hassle. It was fine.
“Plenty of new wood,” Rob observed.
Joe shrugged. Lumber cost money. On the island, everything had to be hauled in or hauled out. The more you could reuse or recycle, the better. Besides, wood had a history. You didn’t throw away something that could work with a little effort.
He ran his hand over the pine. “It’s not serious,” he heard himself say. Britt only wanted him until something better came along. But he wasn’t using the wordsfuck buddy. Not with Rob. “She’s not ready to settle down yet. Brittany.”
Rob gave him a measuring look. “Is that what you want? To settle?”
Another shrug. He could see it. Buying a house, having some kids, being the man his father never was. “One day. Eventually.”
“You’re young,” Rob said. “There’s a whole big world out there to explore.”
Which was funny coming from Rob, who’d lived on the island his entire life and been married to the same woman for twenty years.
“That’s what she says,” Joe said.
“I won’t stand in your way,” Rob said. “If you decide to go. Course, I’d be sorry to lose you.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Joe said. His mom still needed him. Hailey was only seven, too young to be left alone after school.
Rob regarded him with affection. “You’re a good son.”
Joe shook his head. He did his best to help out. Paid the cable bill, got Hailey those new tennis shoes Mom said she couldn’t afford. Last year, he’d bought a pickup, a 2009 F-150 he kept at a lot in St. Ignace. But even putting in toward the rent and groceries, he was saving money. And the meals Nicole brought home from her catering job beat anything he could cook for himself.
“I couldn’t ask for a harder worker. I can’t imagine leaving the business in better hands. I’m just saying, don’t give up on your dreams yet.” Rob propped himself against the cart, apparently willing to spend all day dispensing advice instead of getting on with the job. “Take our Annie. Now, there’s a girl who’s going places.”
Joe suppressed a sigh. Seemed like they couldn’t get through one day without Rob bringing up his favorite subject. For a man who didn’t talk much, he sure did like to brag about his daughter. He was always comparing her and Joe, like they were brother and sister or…something.
It was okay when she was little. But sometimes he didn’t feel like her brother at all. Lately, he’d caught himself noticing when she was around, with her wide, interested eyes and her happy, hopeful smile and her long, pale legs under those tiny shorts. Not that he was looking at her legs. Much.
He wondered uncomfortably if Rob had noticed himsneaking glances and cleared his throat. “Anne? I wouldn’t take her if she was on a hot dog bun and covered with mustard.”
“Excuse me?”
