Family Trees by Kerstin March Page A

early.”
    â€œYou’re meeting up with someone tonight?” Holding three cold beers in his hands, Brad pushed the screen door open with his foot to join the others. The door shut behind him with a spring-loaded slam.
    â€œHow’s Holly?” Ryan asked, knowing that Brad had spent the last half hour on the phone with his pregnant wife.
    â€œShe’s great. Five months along now, if you can believe it. Her sister is visiting right now. But hang on—don’t change the subject. Who are you meeting?” Brad sat down next to Ryan and handed him a beer. “I don’t remember you meeting anyone. Was it that blonde from the coffee shop?”
    â€œNo.” Ryan took a sip from the chilled bottle.
    â€œSo give it up,” Pete said from behind the smoke. “This is supposed to be a guys’ trip. Which you planned, by the way. And now you’re going off with someone else, leaving us high and dry? We’re not letting you off so easily without getting some details.”
    â€œShit, Pete—are you burning our dinner again?” Brad stood up to check on the steaks, which were now engulfed by angry, spitting flames.
    â€œGet outta here!” Pete snapped at Brad with his blackened BBQ tongs. “Step away from the grill and let the master create.”
    â€œYeah, we know what you create. You’re the master of char on the outside and raw in the middle.” Brad shook his head and returned to sit back down next to Ryan. “Seriously, what’s goin’ on?”
    â€œDo you remember that woman we ran into at the outfitter shop?” Ryan began. “The day we picked up our gear?”
    â€œAt the door?” Pete asked.
    Ryan lifted his bottle in Pete’s direction. “That’s the one. Her name is Shelby.”
    â€œYou know her name?” Brad asked with surprise, looking from Ryan to Pete. “Hang on a second. Is that what you were doing today, tracking her down? You weren’t looking at boat charters?”
    â€œNot exactly.” Ryan picked at the paper label that was peeling off his bottle, wet with condensation.
    â€œI’ll bet she was surprised to see you again,” Pete said, stepping over to grab the unclaimed bottle at Brad’s side.
    â€œJust the opposite,” Ryan replied, turning the bottle around in his hands, remembering the episode with Boots and the pies. “She didn’t know me from Adam.”
    â€œIs that right?” Pete coughed, back at the Weber and fanning smoke away from his face as he moved the steaks to a cooler section on the grill.
    â€œI like her already,” Brad said.
    Ryan took a pull from his beer and considered how to put his thoughts into words without sounding like he’d lost his mind. “I know next to nothing about this woman, but there’s something about her. I can’t put my finger on it. When she talks to me I feel like she’s really talking to me —not some guy she’s read about.” He laughed to himself while rolling a piece of the torn label into a small ball between his fingers. “Not only does she see me as just some guy on a summer vacation—it’s clear that she doesn’t like me much.”
    â€œSo she has great instincts, too!” Pete hooted.
    â€œShe must have picked up on the fact that you never commit and you can be a real pain in the ass,” Brad agreed, as the friends laughed at Ryan’s expense.
    When the laughter quieted, Brad turned to Ryan with some concern. “Okay, seriously—let’s say she actually shows up tonight.”
    â€œUnlikely,” Pete added.
    â€œBut let’s say she does. You have a few drinks. Blow off some steam. That’s all well and good,” he said. “But if you spend any real time with her this week, you can’t hide who you are. I mean, I know you always like to downplay it, but you gotta keep it real.”
    â€œI don’t know,”