Elijah was startled when the man came in. He wished he could help, but he couldn't invite himself to use things around Zech's house to help him. They also seemed to already have things under control. Still, the constable walked over to the man. "May I ask how you ended up in such a state?" He rose a brow, wondering if something nefarious had happened to put the poor man in his current state.

"Captain tossed me overboard, sir," Bill blurted out. "Had a tally board of everyone who drowned. Looked like he was excited to add another -"

He stopped himself as he remembered why the captain had done this. He usually made a habit of avoiding the police at all costs; the constable would be just as happy to lock up a thief as a murderer.

He turned to the man who had handed him the bathrobe. "Should I just, er, strip down right here?" he asked.

“No, stay,” Zechariah said ‘kindly’, putting a firm hand on Uriel’s shoulder. “Stay a while, I insist. It is Shabbat, a time for gathering.”

If Uriel thought he was leaving Zechariah with this soaked … orphan? It was hard to tell his age, and there was something about the pathetic state that took off a few years. Well, Uriel had another thing coming. The suspiciousness of Uriel’s sudden attack of conscience eluded him, for now.

He looked to Crane, and then the seemingly shipwrecked young man. His brows furrowed, and then raised in exasperation.

“No work on Shabbat,” Zechariah excused himself with a raise of his free hand.

He cleared his throat.

“Let us start on dinner,” he said.

And woe befall whoever found themselves in a seat facing the door. Zechariah staked claim on the first seat with its back to it. Four plates were set, and one sat at the head of the table – overlooking the parlor. There was food set out in the middle of the table, including two distinctive loaves with a knife by them, brisket, and a large bowl of summer salad with a jar of seasoned oil beside it. There was a bottle of local wine for Zechariah had not been expecting guests to see his not-kosher wine with cups by it, and a glass of lemonade by each plate.

Uriel sighed. It would probably seem really odd that he was quiet while they ate, but he did as his brother asked him to and began to nibble at his food rather than wolf it down like he used to. He stuck his fork into a vegetable and said while looking down at it. "Well..." he started, then stuffed the veggie in his mouth and chewed slowly and thoughtfully. He gave a tentative look to his brother before he said, "I still have to go home to study soon, but I will stay to eat." He eyed Zech for a time, trying to get a read on his mood. This was the first time the man had practically dug his fingers in with the effort of keeping him, the one dubbed annoying by the rest of the brood, sitting and carrying on with company.

"I want to show you the house soon, of course. I know this will sound awfully strange, but I decided to do a lot of the building to keep costs lower... I learned how to build along the way and find it quite invigorating." He glanced over to the other two and then back at his brother. "I bought a small plot of land overlooking the sea. The view is amazing." But the view isn't for me, he added silently, getting moon eyed again for his lady.

Bill waited until the other three men were absorbed in eating, and then stripped off his clothes as quickly as possible and put on the robe. He wondered how much something like this cost.

He walked into the dining room and sat down awkwardly at the empty place. No one seemed to object to him digging in, so he served himself some bread, meat, and salad, and started shoveling it into his mouth.

Elijah wanted to argue with Zech. Not about how he felt he didn't have to follow their rules, but that it wasn't about work for him. He took his job because he wanted to help people. There was no point though, as the man seemed to have gotten wet in an accident. Elijah found no need to question him further and went to eat with the awkward brothers, only adding to the odd situation. He only took a small amount to be polite and ate like a bird, nibbling just barely at it.

Only after hearing the other speak, did he decide to pop into the conversation. "Oh yes, I remember hearing about that place being sold. Glad to see it is going to be taken care of. It is a wonderful view, I'm sure you'll love it as long as you live here. "He smiled slightly at the man to make him feel more welcomed. Not about to admit he'd already forgotten his name.

Zechariah sat down while taking a deep breath, and then let out in a barely intelligible rush that might have had a melody absent hammered down into seven seconds:

“BaruchatahAdonai EloheinuMelech’aolamboraip’rihagafen baruchatahAdonai EloheinuMelech’aolamasherkid’shanub’mitzvotav’ratzahvanu v’Shabbatkodsho-” breath “b’ahavahuv’ratzonhinchilanuzikaron’lmaaseihv’reishit kihuyomt’chilahl’mikra-eikodesh zecher,” side-eyeing Uriel, “litziat Mitzrayim kivanuvachartav’otanukidashtamikol haamimv’shabbat kodsh’chab’ahavahuvratzonhinchaltanu baruchataAdonaim’kadeish’aShabbat.”

Zechariah had been quite the know-it-all as a kid, and while subdued, there was still an edge of that what with using the extended evening prayer rather than just blessing the wine and getting on with it like their father preferred. He poured wine for himself, took a quick sip (as Uriel might recognize as traditional), and started pouring for each of them with a quick glance to see if they seemed opposed.

He served himself and left the others to do the same, heading first for his brisket. This was not the start of a quiet night. Zechariah ate, for once grateful that his brother had more to say.

He waited for him to say something.

He glanced to Uriel’s plate, halfway through his first slice of brisket. He was eating faster than him. His chewing slowed with a vaguely uneasy look.

Oh no. Had Uriel killed someone? He always figured if one of them ended up a criminal, it would have been Menachem. Well. Before university, anyway. Oh God. Was his innocent brother a murderer now?

A horrible soap opera played out in his eyes until Uriel finally spoke. His shoulders sagged in relief, and he swallowed the over-chewed brisket down. Thank the Lord!

“Beautiful,” he sighed out in relief, only to catch sight of the not-quite-dressed half-drowned man in the reflection of one of the serving dishes.

Fuck.

Thankfully, conversation moved on.

“Bought a place,” Zechariah said. “To let?”

Surely - hopefully - the constable was not onto something about Uriel living here.

Buying it as a landlord was the only conclusion he could reach. Uriel had a head for math, and it was an excellent business opportunity, he supposed. Besides, he was far too young for starting a family, and their mother would have strung the news of an engagement to Israel and back!

His knife and fork were pulled to the sides of the plate and set down. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and said, "No, Zecheriah. I'm building it for the woman I marry and our children." He cleared his throat and continued, "We all know I am no business man or lawyer. I don't have it in me. So I decided to do something else with my life." And then he gave a shrug, "I want kids and a wife and I'm going to teach because I love to see the joy on the faces of kids when they are learning something from someone who is just a big kid himself." He swallowed the emotion that was thick in his voice that said there wasn't an ounce of falsehood in what he spoke.

And to the constable, he nodded, "Thanks... The construction is finally done on the house, which is a great thing because now I can study in the peace and quiet for my last tests. It's been an interesting journey to say the least." He picked his knife and fork back up and he ate a few more bites in silent.

"But anyway, enough about me." He didn't feel right telling Zech about his impending wife and child yet, not in front of strangers. He wanted the dinner to be peaceful, wanted to have that little bit of time before he was going to truly be despised by the family for the woman he'd fallen irrevocably and deeply in love with. "How has today been for you?" He glanced to the damp one and said, "And how come you're dripping water all over my brother's floor? How did you come to be in such a state?" He meant nothing by his words, he was asking in an easy voice.

Bill tried to swallow his half-chewed mouthful of bread, choked and coughed, and washed it down with his whole glass of lemonade.

After he finished sputtering, he made a nervous look at the constable. It seemed he wouldn't be let off the hook about this, and he wouldn't be able to make up a different story since the constable had heard his first one.

"Captain tossed me overboard," he repeated, "because... because... er... because I mouthed off at him. Lucky I'm a strong swimmer. This bread is really good, sir, what's it called?" he said, looking toward the owner of the house.

Elijah nodded to the younger brother. "Great to hear. I've seen it after most of the construction. It's a beautiful home, perfect for your peace and quiet. "

He was about to add but became distracted by the soaked man who began to cough. He rose s brow and glanced in his direction before taking a drink.