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“That’s okay,” I said quickly. “I’ll just do what I can reach.”

She shook her head. “You’re going to burn.”

“No, I won’t.”

She looked at me like I’d lost it, but there was no way I was letting her touch me.

Mike wouldn’t care, it wasn’t even about that. I just didn’t feel right about it. Again, I knew I should probably unpack that, but not right now.

“If we do my back, we’ll run out of sunblock and we don’t know how much longer we’ll be out here,” I lied. “Why don’t you let me wear the backpack. It’ll cover me.”

She nodded. “Okay.” She took it off and handed it over. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” I said, shrugging on the pack. “So why didn’t you graduate?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

“I had to drop out in the eleventh grade so I could work because of the stuff with my dad. Are you sure you don’t want some sunblock?”

“I’m sure. You never thought about going back?”

She shrugged. “It’s not like I can afford college anyway, so what’s the point.”

“You could get student aid, student loans.”

She glanced at me. “I have to work three jobs just to afford to live, Chris. It’s not that easy.”

No. I guess it wasn’t. Sometimes I forgot how privileged I was growing up.

I’d had to work when I was in college, but I didn’t have to work to afford my school. I’d never given any thought to what it would be like if I did. Maybe I wouldn’t be a pharmacist right now. Maybe I’d be the one working three jobs.

We walked in silence for a moment. “How old are you?” I asked.

“Twenty-seven. How old are you?”

“Twenty-nine. The stuff with your dad goes back that far?” I asked.

She puffed her cheeks. “It goes back to before I was even born. He always had a problem but it got worse as I got older. He left us in a foreclosed house without a dime when I was fourteen. The car, the electricity bill, the phone bill—you name it, he didn’t pay it. We found out we were homeless when the eviction notice from the bank was taped to the front door.”

I stared at her. “Where is he now?”

“I do not know and I do not care.” She plucked a leaf off a bush and started rolling it in her fingers. “How was your dad? Was he nice?” she asked, smiling at me.

I laughed dryly. “He was great. Sorry.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t really surprise me. You give me I-grew-up-in-a-normal-family vibes.” She handed me the leaf. She’d rolled it into a rose.

I took it and smiled.

“I didn’t have a normal family,” I said.

“Why is that?” she asked.

“My parents were in their late forties and fifties when they had me. I was not planned. Only child.”

“Your parents were in their sixties when you were in high school?” she asked.

“Yup.”

“Wow. What was that like?”