Page 102 of Penalty Shot

“I go about three kilometers out and come back. It’s much longer than that,” Dad states stiffly.

He probably doesn’t know the answer and is insulted Elise put him on the spot. He’s easily miffed.

“Can I help with anything? It smells amazing!” Elise comments, blissfully unaware of Dad’s signs of disapproval.

I don’t think there’s a single person in his professional and personal orbit who would deign to stroll into his kitchen, peek under a piece of foil, and chatter like they’re old friends.

He gets her a glass of water, which she sips while leaning her hip against a cabinet.

“Thank you. Traveling is always so dehydrating.”

“Didn’t you have a nice flight?” Dad asks with furrowed brows and an accusing look in my direction.

“It was a lovely flight! I was entertained by tantalizing glimpses of your beautiful town through the television showOnce Upon a Time.” When she says the title, Elise puts her hand out like she’s reading a billboard.

Dad’s answer is a snort. He’s above verbally commenting on film crews that inconvenience his neighborhood.

“I even saw your offices, which is in a gorgeous building,” Elise continues. “How far back do these structures go?”

Dad clears his throat and dons the public service announcement voice.

“Well, the Shipyard and Canary were built in the late 1800s. Much of the commercial buildings followed in the early twentieth century. The building has gone through much renovation, but we’ve tried to preserve the integrity of its design.”

“I can see that,” she says with a nod. “I bet that’s part of the tourist draw, including the appeal for filming television shows. There’s a unique mix of maritime life, historic architecture, and small-town appeal.”

Dad blinks quickly before recovering. “You should take a tour of the Georgia Cannery. It’s a landmark of this part of the country.”

“Definitely. Come with us! I’m sure you’ll have insights beyond what a tour guide could memorize. I’d love to learn more about the area,” she announces with no guile whatsoever.

It’s as if she asked someone like Auntie Kim to join her for a stroll.

Dad is so disarmed by her laidback friendliness, he merely nods before returning to cooking.

I’m reminded of Elise in her own house, casually steering conversations and candidly bartering opinions with her guests. That ability is proving handy today.

Dad has said more words in the last ten minutes than I’ve exchanged with him if you put together all of our conversations this year.

“We’re here! Sorry we’re late. The traffic on the tunnel was horrendous.”

I’m first to meet my brother and his wife in the tiny foyer from the door to the living room. I hug Corinne and shake Jim’s hand.

“Where’s your girlfriend? Dad already scare her off?” Jim mutters and Corinne swats his forearm as indon’t be a smartass.

“Actually, they’re in the kitchen.”

“Dad never lets anyone in the kitchen when he’s cooking,” Corinne says, stepping forward determined to see with her own eyes.

“Elise goes wherever she wants to go,” I say with a proud smirk. “Even Dad isn’t immune to her charm.”

Jim and I stay back as Corinne and Elise hug through their introductions.

“How’d a clown like you nab such a classy girl,” Jim says.

“Hell if I know, but I’m not questioning it.”

“Can’t believe Dad is letting those two women stay in the kitchen while he’s making dinner. I’m not sure it’s safe to approach.”

Before he finishes his last sentence, Corinne has hooked her arm around Elise’s elbow and Elise fastens it there with herother hand. They’re like two school friends skipping down the street.