Chapter 6: The Deck

At noon the sun came out for the first time in a week.

I carried lunch onto the back deck.

I had the day off for report writing.

The deck had a weathered picnic table that my ex-husband had meant to refinish for ten years.

I put out a pan of chili, a stack of paper bowls, a bag of cornbread.

A cooler of sodas.

Then I rang the cowbell on the porch rail, and the crew came out of the house.

Mikko took the bench beside me before I could think about where to sit.

Kou took the end of the table, with his clipboard laid flat in front of him.

Tanner took the bench opposite and looked at the chili and then at me, and sat down heavily.

"This is nice," Mikko said, with his mouth full. "This is so nice, Brit. Does the boss do this every day?"

"The boss does it today."

"Then I vote for tomorrow, too."

"You don't get a vote," Tanner said.

"I get half a vote," Mikko said. "I'm in the middle."

Kou smiled into his bowl.

I took the sodas out of the cooler and handed them around.

I was leaning over to dig for the last ginger ale when I felt it.

Something warm and solid settled against the side of my ankle, under the table.

It was the toe of a work boot, resting there, not moving.

I looked up.

Tanner was looking at his chili.

His face was perfectly blank, and the back of his neck was red.

I took the ginger ale and sat up, and I didn't move my foot.

"Ms. Sundquist," Kou said. "Would you like the thermos? The coffee's still hot."

"Please."

He picked it up and passed it down the table, and when I took it his fingers slid over mine and stayed there a beat longer than the thermos needed.

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