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There was a stained-glass hanging lamp above their table, casting just enough light for them to see each other and their menus. It took a minute for him to realize that there were no prices on the menu. Misha must have realized it about the same time as he did.
“Jay, why are there no prices on this menu?” she asked.
“Mine doesn’t have any either,” he told her. “I guess we’re just supposed to order what we want and not worry about the price.”
“Hmmm. I guess.”
She didn’t sound convinced, but short of demanding another menu—one with prices—or leaving the restaurant, they didn’t have much choice. He suspected that Kayleigh might end up paying their bill. If so, he’d settle things up with her later.
Their server greeted them with a smile, then told them about the day’s specials before taking their drink orders. Alone again, they talked about the different menu options, and by the time the server returned with their drinks, they were ready to order.
“This is really lovely,” Misha said when they were left alone again.
Jay had to agree. The low murmur of voices and softly playing music didn’t overwhelm their conversation, unlike some steakhouses he’d been to. He definitely owed Kayleigh for arranging this for them. It was the perfect place for a first date.
“They have two other restaurants here,” Jay said. “But this one is my favorite.”
“What are the others?”
“There’s a vegan one. The other one is French or Italian, I think.”
“So you weren’t interested in the vegan restaurant?”
“Not really. I’m sure they have great food, or they wouldn’t be here, but if it’s a toss-up between a steak and anything else, the steak is gonna win.”
Misha nodded. “I’m not a die-hard steak fan, but I do like meat, so I’d have a hard time giving it up.”
“Maybe another time, we can try one of the other restaurants.”
“That would be nice.”
Jay was glad that she was open to another date. Not that he’d thought she wouldn’t be, but hearing her voice it was a relief. Although the evening was still young. It was possible that she might change her mind by the end of the evening.
Once their food arrived, the sizzle of the steak had Jay ready to dig in. Misha seemed as pleased with her choice as well, even though she’d opted for chicken instead of steak.
“This is delicious,” Misha said after her first bite. “So delicious.”
They ate in silence for a minute, enjoying the food. Jay was glad he hadn’t had steak in a while because it just added to his appreciation of it.
Soon, their conversation picked up again, and Misha asked about his experiences playing basketball, both in high school and college. Basketball was always a topic he enjoyed talking about. His experiences in college, less so.
When she asked about his injury, he wished he could avoid the subject, but she had a right to know. Casey had been furious with his decision to let his injury sideline his career, and it had led to their longest breakup and a time when he’d made a few more bad decisions.
“The doctors said I should be fine to play after adequate treatment and therapy,” he said, cutting his remaining pieces of steak into smaller bites, just to have something to do.
“But you chose not to play again?”
“Not professionally, anyway.”
“Most people would kill for the opportunity to play professionally,” she said, stating something he knew was very true. “But you didn’t want that?”
“My mom—my birth mom—used to tell me that it was more important to stick with the family than to pursue money. By the time she got sick, I was already obsessed with basketball and telling everyone that would listen that I was going to play in the NBA. I think all she saw was the potential for problems, and she was afraid she wouldn’t be around to guide me.”
“She didn’t trust the Halversons to guide you like she would have?”
“Or maybe she didn’t want them to have to face that hassle. She wanted me to contribute to the family who had so generously taken us in.” Jay stared down at his food. So much of this he’d never told anyone, and it wasn’t even the whole story. “She made me promise a lot of stuff before she died, and it was hard to move past it, you know, even when I was old enough to know that I could.”
“My mom’s experiences and fears have definitely molded a lot of what she’s passed on to us kids,” Misha said. “My dad was a gang member and ended up in prison for life, where he was killed by a rival gang member. Mom was adamant about us steering clear of the gangs.”
