To stave off awkwardness, my bedroom is on the other side of the house from his. He installed a lock for me, and I have my own outside entrance that dead bolts. Not that I don’t trust him, but this is all very new, and honestly, I don’t think either of us are really sure what this relationship is supposed to look like. Landlord and renter? Parent and child? Uncle and grown niece? A mashup of all three? Presumably, because I have my own door, I can come and go as I please. But because he’s my flesh and blood, I feel this nagging need to explain where I’m going at all times. Thankfully, yesterday morning at work, Dani brought me a small dry-erase board with magnets.

“It goes on the fridge,” she explained. “My roommates and I used one in college. We used it to write grocery lists or leave messages about broken things or where we were headed … it’s not a requirement, but it helps with being considerate.”

The woman is a godsend. I’m guessing my dear first-time uncle must have hit her up for advice. Regardless, the board is perfect. Just the right amount of accountability. Plus, I’m learning that James is a nerd who likes to tell church-dad jokes in his spare time, which is very sweet. And nerdy. Did I mention the nerdy?

This morning: How do you make holy water? YOU BOIL THE HELL OUT OF IT.

At lunchtime, I dropped off some essentials and saw: Why couldn’t Jonah trust the ocean? BECAUSE HE KNEW THERE WAS SOMETHING FISHY ABOUT IT.

I answered back with: Who was the smallest person in the Bible? KNEE-HIGH MIAH. Which I had to google because, again, this is a level of nerdy that even I, a lifelong Sunday school participant, cannot compete with.

So when I hear the rumble of the garage door this evening, I make quick work of what is left of my grilled cheese and dash down the long hallway back to my side of the house. Before I get too far, I hear his low chuckle as he reads my joke, and I smile. This is going to work out just fine.

I’m staring into space the following night, humming and daydreaming, as the last bit of the evening’s rays stream through the picturesque bay windows of the Cozy Café, painting everything in a pretty, nostalgic shade of amber. This town is so freaking cute. Ann Arbor is cute, to be sure, but this is a whole other level because it’s also quaint and small enough that people still bother to smile at strangers.