“Well, you know what I chose to tell you, on paper.” And I may not have told you everything, because I just couldn’t bring myself to. “You can’t fully understand from just a few words, can you?”

He shrugged. “You’re pretty good with them.”

“You flatter me—is that a reflex?”

He laughed, one short exhale. “No? Maybe? I don’t know anymore.”

“It’s been that long, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess, and it feels even longer than it’s actually been because I have to, uh, really immerse myself.” He fumbled a bit, scratched his neck, and I backed off.

The little tics that manifested now almost made him look like a completely different person. One without glasses. When he shifted in his seat, I couldn’t help myself.

“How do you do it?” I asked. “Turn off a part of your brain? Is it like a performance? Is it something you can train yourself to do?”

He sucked on his bottom lip. Eventually he said, “It’s one of my rules that I don’t really talk about this with my clients. Nothing about the company or training, and nothing about my personal life.” His slight frown hinted at some kerfuffle from the past.

“Sorry. I wasn’t trying to pry—I mostly wanted to know because I often wish I could turn off part of my brain. Just… constant worrying about stuff I know I shouldn’t be worrying about, but knowing that it’s not worth my time doesn’t seem to do anything.”

His eyes flicked toward my parents’ bedroom. “Uh, I think you have a right to be worried about stuff. Stressed, even.”

I laughed—loudly—and, having surprised myself, I had to muffle the noise so my parents wouldn’t hear. Or maybe it would be good if they heard?

“Were they what you expected?” I asked even though I really wanted to ask, How do they compare with the other parents you’ve met on jobs? which would then seamlessly transition into What are the other girls like? Am I different? What’s wrong with me? Can I talk to one of them so I feel less alone?

He smiled. “Yes. You’re not my first, you know.” He coughed. “Sorry, I actually didn’t mean for it to come out that way. I just meant a lot of the client parents have similarities. Not completely, of course, but I’ve seen enough to be able to make some conclusions based on certain things I see.” He gestured to the cabinets surrounding us. “Given how your parents boxed up the leftovers, I’m guessing one of these is dedicated to recycled ziplocks and washed-out margarine tubs.”