Page 160 of Rhodes

We get a table and a tray of oysters. For the first half hour it is easier than I expect, just like it's always been.

Granger asks about Nero. I tell him enough to answer without turning dinner into a résumé. He thanks me for helping with the shell shipment, and I tell him Tallulah already had the hard part handled.

She looks at me across the table.

Halfway through the second tray, I look up to see Cooper come through the screen door and pull out the empty chair beside Granger. He doesn’t look at me once, which I notice, but also don’t fixate on.

“Y'all ordered without me?”

Tallulah looks as surprised as I am.

“What are you doing here?”

“Dad texted.”

Granger shrugs. “He was nearby.”

Coop looks around the table, then at me, but doesn't say a word. Tallulah wipes her hands on a paper towel.

Coop talks about work and Granger complains about traffic. Tallulah steals an oyster off my side of the tray and tells me I am too slow when I object.

For a second, it feels dangerously close to normal. Then I catch Cooper looking at us.

I tell myself I'm imagining it.

By the time we leave, the temperature has dropped enough that my muddy clothes act as insulation.

Granger hugs Tallulah beside his truck. Coop says he is heading back toward town.

“I need to get to the hotel,” I tell them. “Thanks for dinner.”

Tallulah looks at me. “Thanks for today.”

“Anytime.”

The word comes out before I consider the double entendre. I head toward my truck as we all disperse.

“Hey.”

I turn to see Cooper standing behind me with his hands in his jacket pockets. “You got time for a beer?”

Something in his voice makes my stomach tighten.

“Sure.”

He picks a place ten minutes away, quieter than Bowen's, but still on the water. There's a bar along one wall and enough televisions that nobody pays attention to the two of us taking stools at the far end.

Cooper orders two beers. He waits until the bartender walks away, then he turns toward me.

“How long?”

My brain scrambles for the context of his question. It could be completely innocuous, or it could be a roadside bomb that’s about to detonate my life. Based on his demeanor, I think I know which one it is.

“How long what?”

“Don't.”

There is no humor in his face. I set my hands on the bar. “Coop.”