“How about hungry?” I was surprised by how badly I wanted to please him.
“Yes.” He offered me a little smile and pointed at me. “No protein or dessert jokes.”
I burst out in laughter. “Come.”
We walked toward the front of the Pier, bypassing the wheel. He craned his head back to look up at it. “Can we ride it later?”
“Are you kidding? Riding the wheel is a must,” I said and held open the door to the family pavilion.
“Such a gentleman,” he said softly.
“Yeah, I’ve been known to be one every now and then.”
Jimmy Buffet’s Margaritaville was just opening for lunch as we arrived. We sat down next to a window that allowed us a view of the sapphire waters of Lake Michigan twinkling in the early afternoon sun. His attention was on the setting, his expression peaceful.
“I think I’m going to have something light. The fish tacos look good,” I said as I skimmed through the menu. The flour tortillas weren’t the best choice, but I figured it was appropriate to splurge a little on a date.
“Good idea.” He flipped through his menu, his lip between his teeth. “The chicken fajitas for me. We can share again.”
“Deal.”
The waitress came by and took our orders. I sipped my water. “When was the last time you were here?”
He looked at me for a moment, before returning his gaze to the pier. “A few years ago, when I used to deliver sandwiches.”
“Delivery boy, huh?” I teased.
Rolling his eyes, he wiped the sweat from his water glass with his thumb. “It was okay. I didn’t like dealing with all the traffic and road-ragers. Riding a bike during rush hour is dangerous. People will just drive over you to save a few seconds.”
“Then you started at Marco’s?” I inquired, wanting to know more.
He shrugged. “Someone stole my bike so I couldn’t deliver sandwiches anymore. I bounced around a bit untilsettling at the market. I like it, mostly. It’s a good enough job with a few perks.”
“That’s good.”
“Have you always wanted to be a doctor? Like, when you were a kid, did you think: Oh, when I grow up, I’m going to fix people’s backs?”
I snickered. “Yes and no. I always knew I’d follow in my father’s footsteps. My grandfather was an orthopedist, and his father was before him. Our family advanced the field and contributed to the practice in its early days. But my boyhood dreams of being a rockstar came true, just not in the way I’d imagined.”
“A rockstar, huh?”
“Instead of a magician with a guitar, I’m a wizard with my hands. I get invited to all the best parties and hang out with powerful people. Yeah, rockstar.”
“Really?” he asked, leaning in. “Like movie stars?”
“A few. More sports heroes and ballet dancers.” I sipped my water again. “I like it. Working with my Dad is fun. We get along great. What about you? No family at all?”
Our eyes connected for a moment before he looked at the lake. “Not really. It’s just me.”
“Sorry if I hit a touchy subject.”
“I didn’t know my father and my mother moved away,” he said, running his finger over a knot in the wood of the table. “I don’t have any siblings. My life is pretty dull.”
Feeling as if I should move away from the subject, I said, “Well, I’m happy to be the one to show you wonders and make your life a little more interesting. I mean, you’re going to have to put out eventually.”
He beamed and I was glad he’d taken the joke well.
Our food came and we ate over light conversation. I told him a little more about orthopedic medicine and my time incollege. He seemed fascinated with my academic adventures and asked several questions about what it was like being in school. We could have sat here all day chatting, but as the restaurant became increasingly crowded and noisy, we decided to leave.
