Table for five by Susan Wiggs

bring them home so I can get back to my life. My sorry-ass life. Which, if things go okay at the tournament next week, I might just have a shot at getting back on track.
    “I still don’t know where they are. There’s been no word of them.” Sean glanced over at Lily, who watched him with a furrow of worry on her brow. The conversation felt slightly surreal as he said, “My brother’s missing and so is his ex. You ought to be out searching for them.”
    Another pause. Sean could hear the tap of a keyboard. “Do either of them have any type of medical problem or impairment that—”
    “I answered all this before,” Sean said, fighting to keep his voice down. “They’re both in perfect health, sound of mind and body. Which is why it’s completely unlike them to disappear.”
    “Sir, at this time, it’s not an emergent situation and we can’t give it airtime or attempt to locate missing adults.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because they’re never missing,” the cop said wryly. “I’ll put the info out on the city channel for now.”
    “What’s that?”
    “Dispatchers’ network.”
    “There are three children involved,” Sean reminded him. “Do you have that in your notes?”
    “Are they in any danger?” the cop asked.
    “No. Absolutely not.”
    “Then I can’t—” There was a pause on the line. “Is your brother Derek Holloway, the golfer?”
    Celebrity had its perks, Sean thought. “The very same.”
    “Well, we can’t do an attempt-to-locate at this time, but I’ll send someone out,” said Henley. “What’s the address?”
    Sean looked up at Lily. “Address?” he mouthed.
    She handed him an envelope from the pile of mail on the table.
    Good thinking. At least one of them could still think. He read the address into the phone.
    “Someone will be right out,” he reported to Lily after he hung up.
    “When?”
    “He said right away. I assume that means immediately.”
    “What if it doesn’t?”
    Sean felt a tic leap in his jaw. “Look, right away means right away. Like now.”
    “You don’t have to snap at me.”
    “I didn’t snap at you.”
    “Yes, you did. And you’re still doing it.”
    “Hey, I don’t need a scolding here.”
    “I wasn’t scolding.” She sniffed. “I just don’t like being snapped at.”
    “I didn’t—” Sean forced himself to stop. It was idiotic, bickering with this woman while Derek was God-knows-where. “Okay,” he said, getting up to pace some more. “All right, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.”
    She turned to the sink and started rinsing the dishes. “I’m every bit as worried as you are, Mr. Maguire.”
    “Sean. Call me Sean.”
    She opened the dishwasher and rolled out the rack. “Why should I do that?”
    “Because I’m sure as hell not going to call you Miss Robinson, Lily. ”
    She pivoted away sharply and began to load the dishwasher. He checked messages on his cell phone, finding nothing new there. Lily lined up the plates in the rack and separated the silverware into baskets according to category—all the forks in one, the spoons in another. She was stymied by a spatula until she laid it carefully in the top rack. Then she put in the glasses, upending each one according to height. Finally she picked up the box of soap powder and appeared to be reading the directions.
    “You need some help with that?” he asked, putting away his phone.
    “No. It’s just that I’ve never used this brand before. It says ‘super concentrated’ so I think I might need less. Ah, here we go. Two ounces for the normal cycle.” She opened a drawer and rummaged around inside it. “Now, two ounces. I believe that’s the equivalent of two level tablespoons….”
    Sean couldn’t help it. He snatched the box of detergent from her, dumped some of it into the trap until it overflowed, then snapped the thing shut. Finally, he closed the dishwasher and gave the knob a twist until he heard the shudder of running water.
    When he straightened up,