“No, not anymore. I’ve lived in Paris for fifteen years. I moved there when I got married, and it’s home now. I don’t have family here anymore.” She no longer had family in Paris either. She kept bumping into delicate subjects she wanted to avoid, but he didn’t pursue them. He was being careful too. He wanted her to have a nice time. He realized as they sat there that he hadn’t been on a date in months. He didn’t have time, nor met anyone interesting lately. He felt out of practice and so did she. She hadn’t been on a date in fifteen years. But she told herself it was just dinner with a new friend. Her wedding band was still very much in evidence as their burgers arrived and they both ate them. They were delicious, and she ate almost all of hers. He had ordered the large size and finished it off. They shared a plate of fries, and he had brought a roll of quarters, so they could play songs on the jukebox. They made their selections at the table and laughed at each other’s choices. He liked country and western, and she played hit songs from the seventies and eighties.

He talked about being in the navy, and in Iraq.

“When did you go to law school?” she asked with interest.

“After the navy,” he said, thinking of CIA training in Langley.

“I wanted to go to business school after college, but I never went. My business had already taken off by then, and I got married,” she explained.

“It sounds like you managed fine without it.” He smiled at her, and she grinned.

“That was the best cheeseburger I’ve ever eaten.” The waitress came to take their dessert order and Theo looked shy for a minute, then laughed. “I want a banana split, but I don’t want you to think I’m a complete pig. I haven’t had one since I was a kid, and I love them. I don’t think I can finish it though. Do you want to share one?” She smiled and he ordered it.

It arrived minutes later, looking like a mountain of ice cream, whipped cream, strawberry, chocolate, and marshmallow sauces, with nuts and a cherry on top. They each dug in at opposite ends, and he laughed when she got a whipped cream mustache on her upper lip.

“You’re laughing at me,” she accused him, and he chuckled.

“Actually, yes, I am. I never figured you for a banana-split person.” She fed the jukebox again with his quarters and she looked happy.

“Well, I am,” she said proudly. “I used to love them when I was a little girl. You know what’s funny? You don’t look like a lawyer.” He was embarrassed to be lying to her.

“I don’t? Why not?”

“I don’t know. You look like something bigger. Like a ship’s captain, or a military person, someone you can count on who would keep you safe. Lawyer seems too tame for you.”