He’s totally going to complain to Mahler about me and get me fired after this. But maybe I can start some kind of Uber therapy business because I’m really enjoying this.

“I understand that more than I understand just about anything,” he says.

And even though I’m about ten seconds away from falling asleep, my eyes snap open. Even though his car is dark and my vision is slightly blurry, I can still see the ghosts in his expression . . . hear them in his voice.

“You do?”

He nods and takes a deep breath—slow in and even slower out. And just like the first time I saw him walk out onto the Mustangs field, awareness filters into every part of my body. I want to adjust my seat. Sit up and give him the same attentiveness he’s given me, but I also don’t want to distract him from the words he’s obviously struggling to find. So instead, I sit as still as possible, not even breathing.

“Yeah, I do. My—”

“You have now arrived at your final destination.” His car—car!—interrupts him.

The British voice seems to startle whatever he was about to say right out of his head. His entire face transforms as he leans forward and looks out of his front window at my building. “Nice place.”

Given I’ve seen his home and I’m still trying to catch my bearings after whatever that just was, I can’t tell if he’s being serious or not.

“You know, after all this time we’ve spent together, I still can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not.”

“I’m not being sarcastic.” He cranks the steering wheel and comes to a stop. “This looks really nice.”

“Then thank you.” I find the button to move the seat into a sitting position. “I bought it after I sold my dad’s house.”

I’ve decorated my condo . . . tried to make it feel like home, but it still doesn’t and I’m not sure it ever will. After my dad died, I contemplated keeping his house. He loved that house. I loved that house. But as soon as he took his last breath, it stopped feeling like my home. Instead it just felt like a place I used to live. And when all of his medical bills started piling in, I knew I didn’t have a choice. But now I don’t have family. I have a house, but not a home. I just feel like I’m going to wander through the rest of my life. Like I have no place where I really belong.

I guess that will have to be a story for my next drunk taxi ride.

“I’m sure he’d be glad he was able to help you, even though he’s not here.”