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because he brings a girl home, it’s a potential problem? Jesus, Chloe, this is the first normal thing that kid’s done since he was ten.”
    â€œThat’s ridiculous. And don’t say Jesus in front of her,” I said, dismissing him. I heard the screen door slam before I could replace the lid on the sauce.
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DESPITE Cal’s reservations, the tofu tomato alfredo was fantastic, silky and full on the tongue. Ada seemed impressed, and Marshall turned grateful, leading the conversation with topics designed to maintain peace at the dinner table. He asked about Meghan’s schoolwork and she practically glowed when he asked her something in French and she could respond fluently.
    â€œWhat did you take?” Meghan asked Ada.
    â€œI didn’t take any foreign languages,” she said. “I was home-schooled. I’m pretty good at sign language though.”
    â€œReally? Show me my name,” Meghan demanded. Ada taught us Meghan’s name, and then did everyone’s, patiently repeating the configurations over and over until we each knew at least our own names, even if we dissolved into hopeless laughter if we tried anyone else’s.
    She signed something at Marshall, quickly, with more intricate gestures than the simple finger spellings she’d taught us, and he nodded but did not include us in the conversation, such as it was. Neither Meghan nor Cal noticed, caught up in testing their names out on each other. Marshall saw me looking at them and smiled, not the sly grin he’d given me upstairs, but his old, open, boy smile.
    â€œSo, Dad, are you booked tomorrow or can we go out on the boat?” Marshall asked.
    Cal seemed surprised, but smiled at him, and I realized he thought he’d be going. “Where do you want to go?” he asked. “We can take you to Meghan’s favorite spot, lots of redfish there. What do you say, Meg?”
    Meghan bounced in her seat. “Yeah, we could—”
    â€œNo, Dad, I meant maybe I could take Ada out. No fishing,” he interrupted Meghan, as though she hadn’t spoken. She fell silent. “She won’t even eat fish, you think she’s gonna put a hook in one?”
    It was the exact wrong tone to take with Cal, and I sighed at the inevitability of it all, neither of them giving an inch. I’d warned him, and we were not to be disappointed. Cal did a dramatic choke on his pasta and turned red before making a great show of swallowing and wiping his mouth with his napkin before responding. His real talents were lost on the fish of Florida; the man should have been an actor. Ada watched with her mouth slightly open, a forkful of pasta hovering in midair, as if debating whether she should flee or keep eating.
    â€œWhy, exactly, do you think I should let you take my boat out by yourself? Didn’t the last time teach you anything? Taught me something, something I’m not ready to forget, Marshall. The answer is no. You can take your girlfriend out on the water by yourself when you get your own boat.”
    Two years ago, right after graduation, Marshall had not come home for dinner. Calls to his cell phone went directly to his voice mail. We didn’t start to worry until after dark, and by midnight we were frantic. Meghan had finally come to us, interrupting me on the phone with Corbin, Marshall’s friend, who professed to have not heard from Marshall.
    â€œMom,” she’d whispered, sidling against me and avoiding Cal. “I think I might know where he is.” I filtered this astonishing announcement through Corbin’s vague suppositions about Marshall’s whereabouts and hung up on him without explanation.
    â€œWhat?” I cried, leaning down into her face, my hands tight upon her small shoulders. “Where? Why have you waited so long? Where is he, Meghan?”
    She cast a doubtful glance at her father and then said, in an even smaller voice, “I think