“No need. It’s on me,” Ava said. “Two chili dogs enough?”

“Sure. Thanks,” he said.

“No problem. I’ll be back in a few… Just leave your door unlocked. I’ll call out when I’m back.”

And just like that she was gone.

Hunt shook his head and grinned when she leaped off the porch and made a run for her car. He had a vague memory of her doing the same thing when she was a kid…always jumping off the porch instead of taking the steps down.

He closed the door and then went back to the bathroom where he was removing old grout from around the tub. He cleaned up what he’d done, then washed up and headed for the kitchen. All of a sudden he was hungry, and happy to be seeing Ava again.

Ava smiled all the way to the Dairy Freeze and then all the way back, thinking of actually sitting down and eating with Hunt. It would be just like old times—except that Marjorie wouldn’t be there riding herd on them while they ate.

She pulled up and parked, then grabbed the sack and ran inside.

“I’m back!” she yelled.

“In the kitchen,” Hunt answered, and when she came in and set the sack on the table, he groaned. “That smells so good. Best chili dogs in Georgia, right?”

Ava nodded. “That’s what we always said,” she replied. She put two chili dogs on Hunt’s plate and one on hers, then took out the fries and gave him more than half of the double order.

“I have Cokes. Want one?” Hunt asked.

“Yes, please,” she said, and sat down.

Hunt took the chair across the table from her and took a big bite.

“Oh wow,” he mumbled, chewing, then swallowing his first bite. “That’s better than I remember. Thanks, Ava.”

Her mouth was full, so she just nodded and gave him a thumbs-up.

He grinned, delighted in her unabashed enjoyment of food, and how easily they’d fallen back into an old friendship. Only difference was she wasn’t the kid anymore. She was a peer, and a pretty one at that.

They dunked fries in ketchup while trading war stories—his from overseas, hers from inside a hospital ER. It was a strange twist of fate that as adults, their jobs had taken them into the sadder and harder sides of life.

“How did you wind up working for an oil company?” Ava asked.

Hunt licked ketchup off his thumb and shrugged.

“I don’t have a lot of marketable skills, but I can fly the hell out of a helicopter. I knew a guy who knew a guy and the rest is history. I ferry oil-field workers back and forth to offshore oil platforms, and the bigshots who come and go from there, as well.”

Ava could tell by the changing expressions on his face that he liked what he did.