As Dad gets down a glass from the cabinet, I raise my eyebrows and say, "Pop?"
"Harmony decided that's what she wants to call me."
I nod and gulp my wine, not wanting to think about the impact my father's departure would have on this sweet girl.
"We've got salad, corn and steak for dinner," Renata says. "I know you don't eat meat, Andie, and I've cut out red meat, myself. I've got a container of marinated baked tofu in the fridge. Would that work for you?"
Everyone here is being so kind. I have to harden my heart and remember that I'm doing this for Dad's own good. It will be much less painful for Renata and Harmony if he realizes now that he belongs in New York.
"Tofu sounds great. Can I help with dinner?"
Renata smiles warmly. "Sure. There's a bag of corn right here. You could take it outside and shuck it. Michael and Seth are outside, they'll help you."
"No problem," I say, carrying the lumpy bag out to the porch.
I shoot my dad a look because this damn bag of corn has stirred up a painful memory for me. He and I always celebrate the end of the school year by making ourselves a lobster dinner, complete with corn on the cob and baked potatoes, that we eat on his tiny patio overlooking the street. We buy a bottle of champagne and clink glasses, toasting the students who drove us the craziest that year. But this past June, Dad was anxious to see Renata again. He left for North Carolina the day after school ended without even mentioning our special dinner tradition. I know I'm being self-centered and childish, but I resent the hell out of this bag of corn.
Michael and Seth are indeed sitting on the porch, and there's a yellow dog asleep in a corner.
"Hey, guys, I'm Andie." I hold up the vilified bag of produce. "Who wants to help shuck corn?"
Both men stand and walk over to me.
Michael greets me first, saying, "Hey, I'm Renata's son, Michael. It's great to finally meet you. We've heard a lot about you."
"Likewise. Renata loves bragging on her sons."
Michael has a cute face and his mother's easy grin. "She really does."
Now that I'm standing up close to Seth, I can attest to the fact that he's at least three inches taller than Michael who's around six feet. At five feet nine inches, I'm not used to being around men who make me feel petite. He only says one word when his hand envelopes mine.
"Seth."
His voice is a rich tenor that rumbles from his chest. I give him only one word back because that seems fair.
"Andie."
His skin is rough and calloused, like someone who works with his hands every day, and his smile is more reserved than his brother's. Both of them are good-looking men, but only one seems approachable. I find myself holding onto Seth’s hand a little longer than necessary, trying to decipher what’s behind that detached gaze. When I realize what I’m doing, I jerk my hand away, and his lips turn up at the edges, like he’s fighting a smile. He mistook my curiosity about him for attraction, which it most definitely is not.
"Maybe we should take the corn outside," I say. "I don't want to make a mess on the porch."
"You'll get eaten by mosquitoes," Seth warns.
"Stay here.” Michael pats the seat of the porch glider. "We can help you with the corn. The grill is lit, and we don't need to start the steaks yet."
I sit down with Michael, and Seth takes a seat opposite us in a wicker chair. Michael and I keep the conversation going as we rock gently and shuck corn. We discuss his older brother Trey, who is a hand surgeon in Manhattan, and what Michael likes to do when visiting New York City. We agree that there's no point in eating pizza anywhere else in the country and that the Times Square area is a tourist trap nightmare.
Seth listens to us silently, and finally I ask him, "How about you? What’s your favorite spot in New York?"
"I haven't gotten up there yet."
Michael sighs as though he takes this lack of interest in the greatest city on earth quite personally.
"You always have an excuse for why you can't come with me," he says to Seth, sounding genuinely hurt.
"They aren't excuses," Seth says calmly. "I work all week and then I work on my cabin on weekends. Once I get my place finished and save up some money, I'll go to New York with you."
"My brother is all work and no play," Michael tells me, chucking a piece of shucked corn at Seth, who catches it deftly.
