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Now we were getting somewhere.
“My shirts aren’t tight,” I said with a grin. “Not on purpose.” She shrugged and looked away innocently. “I’m not a jock, by the way. I played baseball, but that was because my best friend played, and I enjoyed the game with him. Otherwise, I didn’t play sports. I barely follow anything anymore.”
“I see,” she said. “What about you? What’s your story?”
“We haven’t even begun yours,” I countered.
“Yet here I am asking. Where do you come from? I mean recently. I know you were born here.”
“Baltimore, most recently,” I said.
“And what made you leave there?” she asked.
It was an innocent enough question, but one I had a hard time answering. Her playful yet slightly combative attitude was something I didn’t want to ruin. I was having fun. But it was hard to have fun and think about Sarah at the same time.
“It’s personal,” I said. “I’ll tell you some time. Just not now.”
“Fair enough,” she said.
“Do you watch TV? Or are you one of those insufferable people who claim they never watch anything and don’t even own one?”
I laughed.
“No, I watch TV. To be honest, I really enjoy reality cooking shows.”
“Do you cook?”
“Terribly,” I admitted. “It’s like watching sports. I can watch it, appreciate the talent involved, theoretically know how to copy what I see, but then when I go to try, my hands are too dumb to do it.”
“But you try?” she asked.
“I do. I make a half-decent pancake,” I said.
She giggled, and the sound seemed to fill my entire world. I loved how musical it was. So light and joyful, like a balloon that flies away up a flight of stairs and then tumbles back down.
“Pancakes are important,” she said. “Very fine meal, pancakes.”
“Sturdy,” I said. “Salt of the earth type meal.”
“What’s your vice?”
“My vice?” I asked.
“Everyone has one. Some people smoke, some people drink more than they should. Some people eat loads of chocolate. What’s yours?”
“Can I ask yours first?”
“Sure.” She nodded.
I blinked a few times and then motioned at her questioningly.
“Well?”
“I said you could ask. I didn’t say I would answer.”
“Very funny,” I said. “But that isn’t how this game works. You have to answer.”
“Look at you, telling me again how things work,” she said. A little of the playful edge was sharper that time.
