Evelyn set the polished pitcher down on the stainless steel shelf next to the big coffee urn.

“You didn’t take his personal truck when the state board gave you the lien paper,” she said softly.

Nathaniel picked up his fork and pressed the tines into the edge of his meatloaf.

“The state board took what was owed to the eleven crew members,” Nathaniel said.

“I have no use for another man’s personal truck.”

Evelyn wiped the green counter around his paper napkin in slow circles with her cloth.

“He’s a stubborn man, Nathaniel, but he’s still my brother,” she said quietly.