“That’s a lot of extracurricular activity,” I note lightly.

“Well, you can’t be doing what you’re doing forever. For one thing, you hate it. For another, art is more fun, more fulfilling, will offer you better prospects.”

I haven’t told Dom about designing gravestones. I’m pretty sure it would make him run for the hills. I kept it vague, so I can’t exactly get upset that he got it wrong.

“Yeah,” I say. “Guess I could try and see. Maybe it’s my thing.”

“Have you talked to your dad recently?” Dom asks.

“We spoke on the phone before you picked me up.”

Honestly, I wouldn’t qualify what we had as a conversation. We shared empty miss-yous, hollow inside out. But we didn’t address the fact that I’m not in California right now, or that he sent me the box, or that the gap between us is widening every minute of every day.

“I hope you figure it out. If you go in January, maybe I can tag along. I have a lot of vacation saved up,” Dom offers. Just thinking about it makes me want to heave. I haven’t mentioned Dom to Dad. I’m too ashamed to admit I might be happy.

“What should I expect of your family?” I ask, to change the topic. “Prep me.”

“Well, Mom’s just the best. No preparation needed here. She is warm, sweet, and enjoys company. She will love you instantly because you love her son.” He lets the statement hang in the air for a beat before continuing. “As for Dad, he keeps to himself most of the time. He and Seph have the same personality. Dark, broody, skimming the verge of rude. As long as you stay away from politics and the Red Sox, I’m pretty sure you’ll have no trouble winning him over. And then Seph, you’ve met.”

“Actually, I haven’t,” I say. Dom and I haven’t discussed Scone-gate, but since I’m going to meet Seph in about an hour, it’s time to fess up. Dom arches an eyebrow, surprised.

“I thought you did?”

“No, he was in the shower. I just picked up some scones and left.”

“Seph’s a real gem once you get to know him. Hard exterior, but inside he’s a kitten. He’s a wiseass but makes up for it with a heart as big as his trap. I don’t know what I’d have done without him.”

“Why didn’t we drive to Dover with him?”

Dom shakes his head. “He doesn’t do lovey-dovey couples. Can’t stand them. He probably wanted to make sure he wouldn’t get stuck in a make-out-fest.”

“Isn’t he happy for you?”