I tentatively raised my hand. “That’s mine.”
As if he didn’t know.
He handed it right to me, our fingers brushing. I guess the interaction was more than a little weird, because Connor gave me a quizzical look.
“This place is awesome, dude,” Jake was saying. “Can’t believe you aren’t busier.”
“This is just about as busy as I like it,” Nash said. “Tourist season can get crazy—don’t want it to be too hard on my employees.”
“That’s very thoughtful,” Connor said, trying for friendly.
Nash wasn’t taking him up on it. “Mm.”
One syllable. Completely neutral. I felt it like a temperature drop.
“You guys up for the week?” Nash asked.
“Through Sunday,” Jake said. “Came up for the foliage, do some fishing. You know how it is.”
“Sure,” Nash said. The way he saidsuremeant approximately nothing and somehow also meantI have been watching men like you come through this town for twenty years and I will be here long after you leave.
I took a long sip of my screwdriver.
Delia was watching this exchange with the focused attention of someone at a tennis match who had bet money on the outcome.
“Maggie tells us you’re her student’s dad,” Connor said, pleasantly, attempting to find common ground. “That must be a trip, seeing your kid’s teacher out.”
Nash looked at me then.
Just briefly.
“Small town,” he said.
“Right, right.” Connor nodded. “Must be a tight community. Everyone knowing everyone.”
“Something like that,” Nash said.
Another pause. The jukebox shifted songs. Someone at the bar laughed loudly at something.
“Well, we’ll definitely be back before Sunday,” Jake said. “Great spot.”
“Appreciate it,” Nash said, voice flat.
He looked at me one more time. At the screwdriver in my hand.
“You need anything else,” he said, “flag down Tess.”
And then he was walking back to the bar.
I stared at the table.
The silence was stifling.
“Interesting guy,” Connor finally said.
“He’s great,” Delia said brightly. “Very community-minded. Very devoted dad.” She looked at me. “Maggie just loves Nell, don’t you, Maggie?”
“Delia,” I said.
