“The car is beautiful. Thank you,” she said. “I promise, I will pay you back. As soon as I publish my first book and strike it rich.”

“If that makes you feel better about accepting it, that’s a bet,” he said, with a sly grin. He cut into the pie and lifted the fork to her lips. “You’re looking kind of thin. Maybe you need this more than I do.”

She accepted the fork between her lips and closed her eyes as she enjoyed the sweet bite. “I just don’t have an appetite. I’m surviving off smoothies. My Nannie won’t let me go too long without a warm meal, though. She cooks every night. There’s always a plate with aluminum foil waiting for me on the stove when I get home. I may not always eat it, but it’s there, so you don’t have to worry about me,” she said.

“And you don’t sleep,” Ethic said, out of observation.

“Sleep brings nightmares,” she whispered. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” he said.

“I know why I’m sad; but why are you? I see a lot of hurt in you,” she said, quietly.

“That’s a story for another day,” he insisted. “Let’s just say, I know loss. I understand the hurt you feel.”

“Have you ever buried your child?” she asked, defensively.

He was silent because he saw the flicker of anger in her eyes at his comparison of grief.

“I didn’t think so. You don’t know anything about my type of hurt,” she said, passionately. “Nobody understands. It’s like everybody just wants me to move on and I’m stuck.” She cleared her throat and stood up straight, tucking her pain behind a fake smile. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude to you. We barely know one another and I’m already doing too much with you. You probably think I’m a mess,” she said.

“I think what you’re going through is hard and you’re handling it with grace,” Ethic answered. “Now, about this dinner I owe you?” he asked, changing the heavy subject to something much lighter.

“I was thinking. How about you just come over and I cook for you,” she proposed.

“You cook?” Ethic asked.

“Cook? I burn, okay?” Alani bragged. “What you want me to make? Some hot water corn bread? Black eyed peas? Fried chicken? Anything Southern, I got it covered.” She beamed at him, as she continued. “You just let me know what you like, and you can have it.”

“All that sounds legit,” he said. “I look forward to it.”

“Tomorrow then?” she asked.

“Tomorrow,” he agreed.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!