His brow furrowed.
“I mean, you told me.”
“I did.”
The hope receded.
I hated myself for chasing every word.
Noah noticed.
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Do that to yourself.”
“I’m trying.”
“It was one thing.”
“One important thing.”
“Still one.”
“Yes.”
I focused on the road.
After a while, Noah’s right hand shifted.
His fingers covered mine where it rested near the gear lever.
I did not move.
The harbor appeared between buildings.
Masts rose above the rooftops.
Noah leaned forward slightly.
“That’s the yard?”
“Not yet. The marina.”
“Do we work there?”
“Sometimes.”
The station wagon turned onto Harbor Row.
Callahan Marine Works occupied the final property before the public docks. The main building was weathered gray cedar with blue doors. A row of masts stood beyond the covered workshop. The office windows looked toward the channel.
Caleb and Owen waited beneath the awning.
Marlowe stood between them on a leash.
The dog saw the car.
