Page 98 of Rhodes

“You mentioned that." He cracks an egg one-handed. "Could've worn you out enough to put you back down and solved your problem for you."

Heat crawls up my neck, which is ridiculous considering we're supposed to be going back to normal. "Real generous of you. A full public service."

"I'm a giver, Tallulah."

"You're something."

He flips the eggs without looking up. "Next time say something before you go, though. Seriously.”

“Mmm kay, Rhodes.”

He hands me a fork like he's been handing me forks his whole life.

My phone lights up on the counter with the reef-crew thread. Trey confirms the Friday tide window, then starts a whole back-and-forth about who's hauling shell and who's got the trailer.

I brace for it. Some old part of me waits for Rhodes to glance over, make a crack, go still the way he used to at the mention of Trey. But he doesn't ask me one thing about it, continuing his morning chore. He slides the eggs onto a plate and pushes it across the counter to me.

Whatever used to go tight in him at Trey's name has gone out of him, and this morning is easier for it. For whatever reason, the sight of the eggs turns my stomach. I have no appetite.

"You booked today?" He asks.

"Meeting Jo in an hour. Then probably the library because I put off a bunch of homework that I need to get done before I go back to school tomorrow."

He nods and takes a bite of toast, asking what time I think I'll be done.

I check the time and swear.

"Shit. I gotta get dressed."

I head down the hall without answering or touching the eggs.

Jo's already got a table by the window when I get there, laptop open, two coffees in front of her.

"Friday's tide," she says before I've even sat down. "Low's at 6:42. If we launch by six, we get the whole window before it turns on us."

I pull the coffee toward me. "That's another brutal wake-up."

"You said you wanted the whole flat exposed. That's the price." She scrolls. "Bagging shed's back up, by the way. The fan Marco rigged actually works, so we won't sweat through our clothes like we did in the fall once the sun starts coming down.”

“Small mercies.”

"Here's the not-small one." She turns the laptop so I can see the spreadsheet, then decides I don't actually need to and closes it halfway. "Bob sent this to me last night. The spring grant came in short. We're going to be light on cured shell for the next placement."

I make a face into my coffee without reviewing it. "How light?"

"Enough that we can't do the full footprint we planned. Bob said we'll figure it out, maybe beg some off the state stockpile, or split the placement into two rounds." She shrugs. "It's a reef-crew headache. Just wanted you to know before Friday so you're not surprised when he says we're rationing bags."

"Noted." It's a reef-crew problem, and it lives out on the water, a long way from anything else I'm carrying.

Jo closes the laptop the rest of the way and folds her hands on top of it.

"Okay. Reef's handled. Now, tell me about Italy."

"It was awesome."

"You're going to have to give me more detail than that. You've been gone for a week, so fill me in." She leans in. "How was being with the fam? Any drama about your stuff?"

So I tell her the surface stuff. Everybody got along, nobody fought, and Italy was beautiful. I think about how I almost told Libba about Rhodes more than once, but Libba is too close to all of it. Jo isn't. I can tell Jo without having to turn it into something first.