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“Hello, Leo,” he said. “We met at Miriam’s table. You were rounder, then.”

“I remember you,” Leo said. He had his arms crossed. “You’re the one who wanted to examine me.”

Caleb’s head tilted, listening. “I offered,” he said. “You declined. But the offer still stands, for what it’s worth.”

“Why are you here?” Nate asked.

“Can I come in?”

“Why are you here, Caleb.”

Caleb took his hands out of his pockets. “Aunt Miriam is worried about you so she asked me if I could swing by and help you.”

“Swing by. You’re two hours from your usual hunting grounds.”

“Aunt Miriam sounded fairly worried.”

“There’s no reason for her to be.”

“You know how moms are. Let’s just talk for a minute so I can say I’ve been here and put her mind at ease.”

The headache put its thumb behind Nate’s eye and pressed. He wanted coffee. He wanted a shower. He wanted eight more hours of floor, honestly, and he wanted this conversation to be happening tomorrow, or never, or at minimum after he’d changed his shirt.

He stepped back from the door.

“Coffee should be ready in a minute,” he said. “Don’t touch anything.”

Caleb stopped at the threshold and looked down as if he were expecting to find a mat to wipe his boots on. When he didn’t find one, he shrugged and came in anyway.

Leo drifted in front of the staircase as if he needed to position himself to keep Caleb out of the rest of the house. Caleb pretended not to notice. He stood in the middle of the foyer and turned a slow circle, taking in the staircase, the trim, the fresh plaster in the dining room doorway.

“You did good work here,” he said.

“Thanks,” Nate said.

“I mean it. The videos don’t do it justice.”

Nate suppressed a groan on his way to the kitchen. “Of course you watch the videos.”

“Everyone watches the videos,” Caleb said, following. “Sally says she wants to be like you when she grows up. As you can imagine, the family was not amused by that.” He said it lightly, but there was an old hurt buried there that Nate was well familiar with. “After all,” Caleb added. “If the kids all decide to follow your example, who’ll do the work?”

Nate stopped in front of the coffee machine.

He wanted to have this conversation even less than he wanted to talk about the tea.

He and Caleb had trained together, learning all the ins and outs of ‘the work,’—though admittedly Nate paid far less attention to his lessons than he should have—and it had been assumed that they’d work as a team for their first few years as ‘full mediums.’

Except that Nate had quit the family business before that could happen.

“You’re not still bitter about that, are you?” Nate asked his cousin.

“I’m not bitter.” Caleb held up his empty hands as if to emphasize his point, but clearly, he had thoughts he wouldn’t voice.

Nate decided not to press the point.

Instead, he poured coffee into two mugs.

“So,” Caleb said, taking the mug Nate handed him. “What sort of situation were you talking about earlier?”