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Like how to clear a jam in an AR-15. Or how to pie a corner when I’m clearing a house.
Then there were the little things. Like finding out I didn’t like mint toothpaste, it tasted like
absolute ass and made me gag if I used it.
Or the fact that I didn’t like chocolate but loved peanut butter.
Or even the sweet tea at the restaurant when she’d joined me with my team.
Honestly, it was the littlest things that surprised me.
Like finding out that I didn’t like pineapples.
Because smelling the shit was making my mouth water.
I took a hesitant bite and moaned at the taste.
“Shit,” I said. “This is good.”
When I looked up at her, she was staring at me oddly.
“What?” I asked.
She frowned.
“I made you try pineapple once when you were here with us,” she said. “You threw up thirty
seconds after you ate it.”
I took another hesitant bite, expecting to become sick to my stomach, but felt nothing but pleasure at the taste.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But this is fucking good.”
“Luca turned me onto pineapple on my pizza,” she said softly, looking at me with her seeking
eyes. “He said that it was the best thing that I’d ever taste. I haven’t eaten any other kind of pizza since.”
I didn’t know what to say to that.
“I’m not the same man that I used to be,” I admitted. “I don’t know who that other man was, nor do
I know who this one is. But I can tell you that I wish I would’ve gotten the chance to know your Luca.
He sounds like he was a great man.”
And he did.
I just wish I wasn’t constantly being compared to a ghost.
Both Luca and the old Malachi.
“I was invited to dinner,” I said, leaning back in my chair and changing the subject. “They said
that you were coming, too?”
She smiled then.
“Gabe and Ember would’ve made great in-laws,” she said softly. “Did you agree to go?”
