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“Vertigo.” He shut his menu abruptly and put it on the table. “I don’t know why. I’ve had it all my life. I have trouble crossing streets alone. A tunnel seems to open up beneath my feet, and I feel like I’m being pulled down into it. I get all off-kilter. Doesn’t happen when someone’s walking with me.” His shoulder gave a micro-shrug. “Guess I feel like they’re my anchor.”
“Wow. I’m sorry.” And here I’d been thinking he was weird and possibly controlling when what he had was an actual medical condition.
“It’s not a big deal.” His full lips pulled together.
“Except that you live in NYC which isfullof streets.”
He smiled, his dimples appearing. “Yes, well, there’s that.”
“Must make it hard to meet your friends somewhere or…dates.” Although the dates were probably all more than willing to come to him.
“Well, I’ve been in a dry spell so it hasn’t been much of a problem lately. And I’ve been lucky that most people understand.”
“That’s wonderful. I feel like no one understands me, at least lately.” I ran a finger around the rim of my glass.
“You’re not close to your sister then?”
I folded my arms on the table and leaned on them. “No. Though my mother wishes we were.”
“I’m sorry.” His eyes were soft, his voice full of sympathy.
I shook my head. “Thanks, but there’s nothing to be sorry about. We just don’t understand each other.” And that was fine. You couldn’t miss something you never had.
The waiter who’d filled our water glasses earlier came back to take our order. When he saw Tanner, he did a double take.
I smiled. “See? I found him. He was right across the street.”
His eyes went from me to Tanner and to me again. “Um, good for you,” he said. “For you both. What will you be having today?”
He took our order. I asked for a Reuben, and Tanner requested the Dagwood, each with a side of chips. When the waiter was gone, Tanner picked up the conversation where we’d left it.
“It must be lonely, not connecting with your sister like that.”
I sipped my water before answering. “I guess so. I never thought of it like that, though. Lindsay and I…well, I guess we’ve never relied on each other, so it’s not like there was ever a close relationship there.”
“That’s sad,” he said, his brow furrowed over his soulful, amber-brown eyes.
“Only from the outside. I feel fine. Besides, I’m lucky that I’ve had my best friend, Isla, since second grade. She’s almost more of a sister than Lindsay is. She’s very supportive.”
“I’m glad.” He patted my hand.
It felt good opening up to him like this. He was a very good listener.
When the food arrived, we were staggered by the size of our sandwiches—his especially. I’d imagined the Dagwood would be tall, but the waiter set down what looked to be more than two vertical feet of bread, meat, and cheese. My Reuben was big enough. Tanner’s sandwich was ridiculous.
“Good luck, lady,” the waiter muttered as he turned away.
Tanner and I laughed. “You’re the one he should be wishing luck to,” I said. “How are you even going to get that into your mouth?”
He spread his napkin out on his lap and bellied up closer to the table. “Like an elephant. One bite at a time, I guess.”
“Okay, let’s see.” I propped my chin in my hand and made a show of staring at him as he attempted to get a handle on the thing.
He paused with his knife and fork in the air. “Well, I can’t eat it with you watching me.”
“If you’re not able to eat it when I’m watching you, then you’ll never be able to eat it when I’m not watching you.”
He put his knife and fork down. “What does that mean?”
