finished his lunch and resumed his work. A Steely Dan song played from the radio.
We didn’t see Brad that day till we were all done with our tour and walking back down the driveway toward the road. He roared up in his truck, scattering gravel as he came to a sudden halt. He killed the engine and swung out of the driver’s seat. He wore navy blue chinos and a tucked-in flannel shirt, and moved with an easy athleticism. He shook my hand, as he always did, and made solid eye contact when he asked me what I thought of the progress so far. As we talked, Miranda appeared disinterested, gazing back toward the house, and its view of the ocean, placid and still in the quiet afternoon.
“I hear you’re here all week,” Brad said.
“Thought I’d take a little vacation. Keep an eye on Miranda.”
Brad laughed, and maybe I was overanalyzing, but he laughed a little too heartily. I could see the fillings in his teeth. In my peripheral vision I saw Miranda swing her head back to take a look at him.
“She’s the real general contractor on this job. She missed her calling, this one,” Brad said.
“That’s what she keeps telling me.”
“I’m right here, you know,” Miranda said. “You can include me in this conversation.”
Before Miranda and I left to walk back to the inn, I told Brad that he should swing by the tavern that night, have a drink with us. He told us he’d try and make it.
“Aren’t you chummy,” Miranda said when we were back on Micmac.
“He’s your chum. I was just trying to be friendly so that he doesn’t feel like he has to stay away now that I’m in town.”
“What do you mean?”
“I thought you two were friends. He’s never met you at the inn for a drink?”
“God, no. He lives in this town. He’s not going to pay five bucks for a Bud Light.”
“Where do people who live in this town go to drink?”
“There’s someplace called Cooley’s, along Kennewick Beach, where I have not personally been invited yet. We should go sometime this week. We can’t eat at the inn every night.”
“I’d be up for that,” I said. The sidewalk narrowed for a stretch, and Miranda slid her arm through mine, pulled us closer together. Despite the brightness of the sun, it was cold where the sidewalk was shaded.
I asked, “So you don’t think Brad will show up tonight?”
“I have no idea. Maybe he’ll feel he has to, since you’re writing the checks and you asked. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t.”
“You and him have really never had a drink together? I just figured you had, since you shared cigarettes and all that.”
“God, that really bothered you, didn’t it? No, Brad and I are not friends, but we are friendly. He’s an employee and he’s doing a great job, and I respect him, but I don’t necessarily need to become his drinking partner. Besides, from what I hear, he has plenty of drinking partners already in this town.”
“What do you mean? What do you hear?”
“I’ve heard from some of the other guys on the crew that he drinks a lot, and screws around a lot. That’s why his wife left him. Not that it’s any of our business so long as he gets the job done. Why are you suddenly so interested?”
“I’m up here for a week. I thought I’d get to know some folks, some of the people you’ve been spending time with.”
“I’ve made one friend here, and it’s Sid. She’s the one who told me about Cooley’s, and about Brad’s reputation. Let’s go back to our room, take a nap, then get a drink. Sound good?”
Brad didn’t show up that night at the tavern. Miranda and I sat at the curving end of the bar, drinking wine and talking with Sid, even though she was busy with the Saturday night crowd. Sid had spiky blond hair, and intricate tattoos that covered one entire arm. When she spoke to us she never took her eyes off Miranda, something I was familiar with, and something that at other points in my life I had actually enjoyed. Maybe Miranda and Sid were having sex as well. Maybe Miranda was having sex with every Tom, Dick, and Sally in Kennewick.
Throughout the course of the evening, every time someone swung through the heavy tavern doors I would glance over to see if it was Brad. Miranda never looked. Either she knew he wasn’t coming,