Malcolm grinned at the accusation and did not deny it at all, the expression softening to a happy warmth as Raylan checked on his daughter.

"I always want to help," Malcolm assured him, taking a drink from his glass before heading inside. He delivered the tongs and sauce to Raylan, then went back in and set two places at the table and adjusted Willa's high chair before joining Raylan outside again.

He drew beside him at the grill, quietly watching Raylan turn the meat, paying attention to how it looked and what he did. His phone vibrated in his pocket. He was transfixed on the lesson and he didn't look at the call display as he answered it pretty much on autopilot.

"This is Bright."

His expression became slightly grim as he looked at Raylan instead of the grill.

"Hello, Mother." A beat. "Yes, I am," he said plainly. He frowned faintly as he listened. "So tell them we'll be down there on..." He paused. "No, tomorrow isn't good for me." A frustrated huff of breath. "Don't bring him into this; of course I'll come." A beat. "I know." Another beat. "I know. Okay. See you then."

He disconnected and slid the phone back into his pocket, looking at Raylan miserably. "I have to go back to New York in the morning. I'll probably be gone before Willa is."

He turned and stepped back to the coffee table, picking up his glass and taking a large swallow.