“I can’t regale you all night with stories of the residents of Dove House.”

“You can crack my shit up by using words like regale,” he returned.

I found that surprising.

“Regale is funny?” I asked.

“Amy,” he said as answer and said no more, but my name on his lips was uttered with a smile.

So I queried, “That’s it? Amy?”

He looked both ways and made his turn, saying, “I’ll confirm. Regale is funny.”

“How?”

“How is anything funny? It just is,” he replied.

“I find that strange,” I murmured, not knowing if that stung or if it didn’t.

He heard that too.

I knew it when he said, “I’m not makin’ fun of you, babe. It’s just cute. Like you can be when you’re not being bull-headed and a pain in the ass.”

God.

Really?

I glared at him. “You can be bull-headed and a pain in the ass too, Mickey.”

He glanced at me and did it grinning. “See? We already got a lot in common.”

It was in that moment I realized he was teasing and further realized it was funny and sweet. It also put us into a spot where we were familiar. This wasn’t a first date to be nervous about. This was Mickey and Amy going to dinner.

That was when I felt complete relief and I was grateful to Mickey for giving me that.

I didn’t share that verbally. I just rolled my eyes and faced forward but did it smiling.

And when I did it, I saw we were on Cross Street. Mickey took us down to the end, by the wharf, and found a parking spot only two doors down from the Lobster Market. It was clearly a score since the street was busy, not only with cars at the curbs angled in their spots, but with people strolling.

I figured this was an end of summer, use it before you lose it kind of thing. Living in La Jolla we didn’t have seasons, so I’d forgotten how you learned to pack it all in before you lost daylight and warmth.

Once parked, Mickey got out and was at my door by the time I had it opened and had a foot to the runner. He helped me down, away from the door, which he slammed, and he beeped the locks as he led me to the sidewalk.

He held my hand as we walked and again, I thought that was sweet.

When we made it to the Market, he went in and the hostess smiled, saying, “Hey, Mickey. Got your table all ready.”

She gave me a smile too before she grabbed some menus.

But I was surprised that the Lobster Market took reservations (and I was surprised in a nice way at more sweet from Mickey that he took the time to make one).