One of the brothers said something in Italian. Tino glared at him and stood.
“Come,” he said to Margot, gesturing at an empty table in the restaurant’s farthest corner. “So we won’t be interrupted.”
“Thank you. I’m fine right here.”
Tino shrugged and reclaimed his seat. Margot sat across from him and removed a box of cigars from her handbag and offered one to each of the brothers in turn. When all of them declined, she selected one for herself and lit it.
“Thank you for agreeing to this,” she said, taking a puff and trying to summon an unburdened smile. “The location you suggested is certainly appropriate, even if the hour is unusual.”
“Habit, I guess.” His eyes traced the smoke as she exhaled it. “It was my mother’s custom to eat with the crew after the night’s haul. I continue to honor the tradition, even though there’s nothing much left to can.”
“Where is she?”
“She passed away. Shortly after your father.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“You are?”
“I don’t suppose I could get a beer.”
“Of course.”
He nodded at the barman and made a series of quick gestures. The barman filled a glass, and when he brought it to her, she took the longest sip she could manage without gulping or coughing.
“You’ve changed,” Tino said. “Rumor had it you were the only one who ever went to Ricketts’s lab and didn’t emerge blind drunk.”
“I emerged pregnant. Which was probably worse.”
Tino swallowed. The brothers traded glances.
“You’ve changed, too,” she continued. “I wouldn’t have expected you to want to take the helm.”
“Oh, life is less about what one wants, I suppose, and more about what one is willing to accept.”
“It was your mother’s plan all along,” she guessed.
“I suppose it was.”
“And you’re still willing to buy?”
“My family owes you at least that much, even though the reduction plant is barely worth the land it stands on anymore.”
“It’s gotten that bad?”
“It has. During the war, the government took over and then bled us dry. Requisitioned our boats for shore patrol while simultaneously forcing us to meet impossible quotas. Evacuated some of the poorer Italians and all the Japanese. When the sardines disappeared, most of the canneries went under, but we were able to stay open because we switched over to squid.”
She looked down at the table. The squid boats from Anders’s childhood. Orange sails. Women in the night water wrestling the heaving nets to shore.
“Are you all right?” he asked. “You look ill. Let me walk you home.”
“I’ll be fine.” When she drained her glass, another one arrived as if by magic, full to the brim. “Let’s discuss our terms.”
“Whatever you think is fair.”
“Market price. Minus expenses.”
“For both the house and the reduction plant?”
“That’s right.”
“I’ll have my lawyer draft something. You’ll have it by this evening. I’m sure you’re eager to move on.”
“I am.”
“Then why, if you don’t mind my asking, did you come at all?”
She nudged her drink, watched the bubbles rise and gather.
“Call it nostalgia,” she said, half choking on the lie.
“That’s never a good reason.”
“I know. Thank you for indulging me.”
On the way back to the house, she chose the path closest to the beach.