“Let me know when Austin gets here. I’d stay and wait, but I have work in the morning, and Kael needs to get home.”

My dad waved from his chair in the living room, not caring enough to say a proper goodbye.

Kael stood in the doorway, half in, half out.

“Do you have plans this weekend? We’re driving up to Atlanta on Saturday for a few days, if you want to—” Estelle offered. My dad looked at her pointedly. Kael looked down at his boots.

“I’ll be working.” I loved Atlanta, but no way was I going with them. And wouldn’t their plans be changing with Austin coming to town?

“That’s too bad.” She tucked her dark hair behind her ear. She had shiny, wide earrings on. “Maybe next time.”

“Maybe,” I said, descending the porch steps.

My dad and Kael were both dead silent.

“It was so nice to meet you, Martin. Drive safe.” Estelle smiled as I motioned for him to get off the porch. I wanted to leave, and fast. Once he caught up to me, I practically ran down the driveway and yanked my car door open.

“I told you those dinners are the worst.”

Even after suffering through it, Kael didn’t have a word to say.

“Do you have a family?” I assumed he wouldn’t answer, but anything was better than silence as we drove away, and I began to think about my brother and the trouble he continued to cause. I needed a distraction.

“Do I have a family?” he repeated, the words bouncing around in the small space of the car.

Muttering, I tried to correct myself. I was starting to feel nervous again. “I mean, obviously you have a family, otherwise you wouldn’t exist. But are they like that? Three courses, matching plates, all the beer, all that shit.”

“No,” he said, staring out the windshield of my car. “I don’t think many families are like that.”

“In a good way or a bad way?”

“Both.” He shrugged, buckling his seatbelt. “It depends if you’re looking at the intent, or the impact that intention has on other people.”

I slowed down to stop at the stop sign. I looked at him when the car was fully halted. “Huh?”

He turned, fixing his eyes on me. “Her intention is to impress you. To please you and your dad. The decorations, the folded napkins, the elaborate meal. She obviously cares not only what your dad thinks, but what you think.” He used his index finger to point at me.

“Continue,” I said, beginning to drive again. I was concentrating on our conversation and slowed down to below the speed limit.