I WAS FIDGETY, WIPING my hands on my legs. I always did that when I was nervous. “I’ll do the talking,” I said to Kael as we approached the door. “Let me explain why we’re late. Why I’m late.” Then it dawned on me who I was talking to. Soldier wouldn’t have a problem being quiet.

We walked into the kitchen, which was filled with the aroma of honey and cinnamon, and what might have been ham. It smelled like a holiday.

“Sorry I’m late,” I said. “I had to stay behind a little at work, um … and then I was helping Elodie’s friend.” I turned behind me to introduce Kael.

My dad was seated at the head of the table when we came in. No reading the paper, no listening to the radio. Just waiting. I looked at him sitting there with his craggy face and his sparse white hair. It was really thinning now. So was his papery skin. Everyone on my dad’s side turned to snow early. It looked beautiful on the women—at least it did in photographs—but I always hoped I would take after my mom. I guess we’d see.

My dad moved his eyes off me and looked at Kael, who took a step back. Instinct or nervousness—who knew? Despite being just a tad over five feet tall, my dad was intimidating. He could be soft when he wanted to. And when he didn’t want to, he could cut life a knife.

“Martin, nice to—”

My dad shook Kael’s hand. I was waiting for the fall-out about being late when Estelle walked into the kitchen, carrying a bowl with a big wooden spoon sticking out of it.

“Hey!” She greeted me like she usually did. Excited. Fake.

Estelle always wore slightly different versions of the same outfit: jeans with a little flare at the bottom and a buttoned-down shirt with a pattern. Always. Today’s top was striped blue and red. Like all of the others, this one had darts at the waist and bust to, as she put it, “create a streamlined silhouette.” I couldn’t be less interested in the fit of Estelle’s clothes—or anything about her for that matter—but she told me one day how she liked to buy these fitted shirts because of the way they flattered her shape. She twisted her torso like a model when she said it, as if she was having fun bonding with her then-boyfriend’s daughter. It had been excruciating.

It was weird that Estelle never changed her style. I loved consistency, but not from her. I didn’t want anything from her.

“Oh, well … hey. Hi! I’m Estelle.” She wasn’t doing the best job at hiding her surprise over the extra body in the room.

Kael waited for her to put the dish down before extending his hand.

“So, um, Kael is Elodie’s husband’s friend. He just got back from deployment yesterday.” I avoided looking at my dad. “He’s going to eat with us, ok? He’s locked out of his car.”

Estelle motioned for Kael to sit next to my dad in his King chair, but I sat there first so Kael could sit beside me. No need for him to occupy the hot seat.

“I’m assuming you’ve heard from your brother?” my dad asked.

I pulled out my phone. “I missed a call from him.”

“He’s on his way.”

“What?”

My dad took a long, slow drink of water.

“He was arrested last night.”

I stood up from my chair. “What? For what?”

My dad’s eyes were a carbon copy of my brother’s. He was like him. I was like her. We had heard it all our lives. That didn’t mean it was true. Example: this arrest.

“I don’t know, exactly. The precinct won’t tell me. If it had been on government property I could easily have found out,” he huffed. My dad was in knots—frustrated and disappointed. I could see it all roll off him and I knew he was feeling as if he had failed as a parent. Couldn’t disagree with him there.

“And how is he getting here?” I asked.

“Driving. He should be here in a couple hours.”

Kael sat there staring at the table, strumming his fingers, trying to be discrete.

“Where is he going to stay?”

“Here,” he answered with certainty.

I sighed. “Does he know that?” I picked up my phone and dialed my brother, but it went straight to voicemail. I didn’t bother leaving a message.

My dad furrowed his thick eyebrows. “Does it matter? He’s getting himself in real trouble. This isn’t child’s play anymore, Karina. You two are adults now.”

“Us two?” I scoffed. “I’m not the one who was arrested. And Austin’s not even here to defend himself, so that’s hardly fair either.”

Estelle clucked around my dad as we fought. She did this every time. She was literally making my dad’s plate as we discussed his only son’s failing future. He and I raised our voices, but she was her normal, perky self. Kael shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Would you like some ham?” Estelle asked Kael.

She was exactly what my dad needed. Someone who could ignore the chaos and play the role of the obliging wife in the second half of his life. My mom was a hurricane and Estelle wasn’t even a drizzle.

“The glaze is a family recipe. Here take some.” She held up a little plantation-style gravy boat full of dark, syrupy liquid. When she bought the thing off eBay, she literally told me it was “from a real plantation,” like that wasn’t a gross thing to say and own.

Kael thanked her for helping him make his plate. I told my dad that I knew he shouldn’t have sent my brother away, that this was his fault. He told me the fault was all mine.

“I’m not hungry,” I told Estelle when she passed me the ham. My stomach gurgled, proving me a liar.

“Don’t be a child,” my dad told me. He smiled at me, a sorry attempt to soften his words.

“You just said I was an adult. Now you say I’m being a child. Which is it?” I hated bickering like this, but my father brought out the worst in me. Especially when the subject was my brother. “I’m just confused why you’re acting like it’s not a big deal,” I said. “Because it is. It’s a very big deal.”

“I know, Karina, but this isn’t the first time.”

“It’s only the second,” I snapped. “It’s not like he’s a career criminal.”

“Let’s not worry about him until he’s here, okay? There’s nothing either of us can do from here. He’s a twenty-year-old man.” My dad’s response to my brother’s second arrest was rational, almost to the extreme.

I wished I could just push my emotions away like that. It took me a while to shift gears. My dad could bounce back and forth between extreme emotions, just like my mom. She was worse at it. Or better. I guess it all depended on how you looked at it.

My stomach rumbled again and I gave in and started making myself a plate. Kael had a forkful of mashed potatoes moving up to his mouth. I figured he could sense we were calming down and getting into our regular motion. We would be back bickering soon enough.

I put my phone on the table, screen up, just in case Austin texted or something. And then I tried hard not to think of him, driving all the way here by himself, scared about being arrested, scared about facing our dad.

“So Kael, are you home for good?” Estelle was the stage director, moving the conversation away from our family dramatics. This time I was almost grateful.

“I think so. Not quite sure yet, ma’am.”

His manners were impeccable. I wanted to know more about this man. I bet his mother was kind. I couldn’t remember the last time I heard someone my age call someone ma’am.

I watched him as he politely answered every question she threw at him. What battalion was he assigned to? Where in Afghanistan was his camp? His answers were short but sincere and his lips wrapped around every word he said. I wished he enjoyed talking more than he seemed to.

By the time we were eating dessert, I’d forgotten that we were even late. Austin’s arrest took the attention off of me. Not the first time that had worked in my favor.