Amy placed a forkful of mashed potatoes into her mouth; the food tasted like the inside of a dried apple. She held up her hand to show she had food in her mouth, couldn’t talk. They were all patient, willing to wait for her answer while she chewed and swallowed. Eliza held her head straight, not a single hair out of place. Jack lifted his eyebrows; Phil leaned back against his chair, his soft jawline now set.

Nick finally spoke. “That was all before Jim broke his back.” He turned to his daughter. “Your mother is right, Lisbeth. You shouldn’t—”

“Whatever.” Lisbeth waved him off. “Let’s change this stupid subject.”

“Let’s,” Nick said.

“So.” Eliza coughed, took a long swig of her wine and looked at Phil. “So tell us a little about yourselves. How did you two meet—you went to college together?”

“Actually, we didn’t,” Phil said. “We’re from the same hometown.”

“Oh.” Eliza pursed her lips, looked at Nick.

Amy smiled. “I went home for a college break and well—”

“The rest is history?” Eliza smiled.

“History,” Amy said. “Yes, history.”

“Now how did you two meet?” Phil asked Eliza.

Eliza pushed away the plate containing her barely touched food with her forefinger. “We met on a state-sponsored trip to Costa Rica—it counted for an entire semester of school credit, for an internship on reforestation.”

Phil rubbed the back of his neck. “And you?” He motioned with his hand toward Eliza. “You were in reforestation . . . whatever that is? Sorry if I’m having a hard time picturing this.” He smiled at her.

Eliza laughed. “I know, I know. Hard to see, isn’t it? The truth is that my major was business. But my daddy said if I wanted to come work for his company, I had to have some practical experience—prove to the board I was worthy.” Eliza rolled her eyes. “And so I looked at all the internships and picked the one with a beach—Costa Rica.” She laughed and Amy wanted to roll her own eyes, but instead she closed them, wished herself at home.

“Granddad made you go to Costa Rica?” Lisbeth leaned into the table. “I never knew that.”

“No, he didn’t exactly make me. I picked the trip, but I wanted to prove I could work for him when I graduated. And because it’s a publicly held company I had to prove it to more than just him.”

Amy opened her eyes. Ah, the magic words: “publicly held company.” Phil would be drooling now.

“Which company would that be?” Phil asked.

“Sullivan Timber. It’s—”

“The largest timber company in the southeast,” Phil said.

“Yes. How did you know that?”

“I’m a stockbroker. We manage that account for quite a few clients. It’s done well. How long have you worked for them?”