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. . . ?”
    â€œNo. This is my family’s dock. That’s our house. Well, my parents’ house.” He was pointing up at the house whose yard we had cut through to get here.
    I felt like the universe was handing me new and different ways to embarrass myself today. “I am so sorry.” I jumped out of my seat. “The boy, Graham, up at the inn sent us down here.” I was throwing things into my bag and scrambling to find my sunglasses. Logan was still just sitting there smiling at Elliott. I kept tripping over myself apologizing. I could not get out of there fast enough. “I didn’t realize it was a private dock.” I felt like this guy Elliott had just walked into his house and found me eating food out of his refrigerator.
    â€œNo, you don’t have to leave.” Elliott stood up. “I’m sorry. Graham should’ve explained better. It’s fine that you’re here. We don’t mind at all.”
    â€œI don’t think so.” Where are my stupid sunglasses?
    Logan put her hand out to him. “I’m Logan.”
    He shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, Logan.”
    I mumbled, “I’m sorry. We’ll be out of here in just a minute.”
    Logan pointed to me. “That’s my aunt Olivia.”
    He held his hand out. “Nice to meet you, Olivia.” I shook, sheepishly. He kept talking. “Really, please just sit down and we can start this over. I have to be back in the office by two o’clock and I don’t want to waste the whole day having you apologize over nothing.” He opened his tackle box and began poking through some lures. Without looking up at me he said, “Your sunglasses are on your head. If that’s what you’re looking for.”
    I stood there like a disheveled idiot, my hastily packed bag overflowing with my towel and lotion and magazines. I was staring at the back of their two heads waiting for someone to realize the absurdity here and let me off the hook so I could slink away. But no, I was stuck. I dropped my bag on the dock.
    Logan was unfazed. “So is Graham your nephew or something?”
    â€œHe’s my brother actually.”
    She nodded, tucking away this new bit of information. “Cool.”
    Elliott looked at me as I sat, defeated and embarrassed, on the edge of the dock. He said, “Can you believe kids still say the word ‘cool’?”
    Can you believe I’ve been in this state for less than twenty-four hours and I’ve managed to make an ass out of myself in front of the same man twice? I put my sunglasses back on to give me some semblance of invisibility and kicked my feet in the water.
    While Elliott readied his fishing rod Logan threw me a series of frantic gestures and facial expressions ordering me to find out what I could about Graham from his brother. Elliott cast his line in a smooth arc, landing the lure in the muddy waters bordering the shore. He sat down on the dock next to me and sighed as his feet hit the cool lake. “So, what brings you guys to Tillman?”
    I was staring out at the water watching the small ripples the breeze was stirring up. “Actually”—there didn’t seem like any other way to put this—“we’re here to bury my mother.”
    â€œOh.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I am so sorry. And here I am acting like a jackass.”
    That made me laugh. “I thought I was the jackass.”
    â€œNo. That was me. I shouldn’t have made that joke about—” He cut himself off. “I’m sorry for your loss. Was it recent?”
    Elliott the nonwaiter was so genuinely empathetic about my mother that I thought I might cry. “No. It wasn’t recent. Actually she passed away last year. She was cremated and we’ve come to scatter the ashes.”
    Elliott just nodded his head as he reeled his line back in and cast it out again. We sat there quietly for