“Put them on,” he said. “Unless you’re scared.”

A boy near the grill whistled. Someone told him to be quiet.

Joseph wiped his face with the sleeve of his flannel. His daughter Khloe sat at the curb a few yards away, holding her knees. Eleven years old, braids tucked behind her ears, she was looking at Trent with a frightened concentration Joseph recognized immediately.

It was the look she’d worn in the hospital when her mother didn’t come home.

That look hurt him more than the bottle.

“Trent,” Joseph said, “go enjoy the party.”

The boy laughed. “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?”

“That’s all I need.”

“Everybody around here acts like you’re some kind of tough guy.” Trent came closer. “Quiet man. Doesn’t talk. Doesn’t smile. Always watching. What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Then show everybody what you’ve got.”

Joseph bent and set his empty cup beside the table. He was careful with his movements. People who wanted a fight were often looking for one small movement they could call the beginning of it.

“I won’t fight you.”

The smile disappeared from Trent’s face.

“You think you’re better than me?”

“No.”

“You think I’m a joke?”

“I think you’re making a mistake.”

Trent leaned close enough that Joseph could smell the mint gum on his breath. “I’ll put you in the hospital.”

Joseph unbuttoned his soaked flannel. He took it off, folded it once, and placed it on a chair so the fabric wouldn’t drip onto the food. Underneath, his plain gray shirt clung to his shoulders. He didn’t flex or square up for an audience.

“Khloe,” he said without looking away from Trent, “go stand with Mrs. Bennett.”

“Dad?”

“Please.”

She went, but slowly.

Trent took that moment to start bouncing on his toes. His friend Eli raised the camera higher. A second young man stepped sideways to clear the shot.

“Look at him,” Trent called to the crowd. “He’s actually getting ready.”

“Put the phone away,” Joseph told Eli.

“It’s public property,” Eli said. “We can film.”

“Then film all of it.”

For the first time, Trent looked uncertain. It lasted less than a second.