“Care to share?”

“Promise not to make fun of me?”

His brow furrows. “Why would I make fun of you?”

“Because I should have an idea at this point, and I don’t. That’s embarrassing.”

“Says who? Pretty sure there isn’t anything that says people need to have their life figured out by a certain age. My grandma Louise is the perfect example of that. She was an elementary school teacher for thirty years and then one day said she was going to start fishing lobster. And she did.”

“What?” I laugh. “Isn’t that arduous work?”

“She wouldn’t bring in many, it was more of an after-retirement hobby, but she didn’t know anything about lobster cages. She decided to learn, went out on her little boat, and she spent her days fishing for lobsters. To this day, I will always say she caught the best of the best, and boy, did she know how to cook them. She made this special butter sauce that melted in your mouth.”

“I’ve never had lobster.”

His eyes shoot open. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah. My mom never really thought I was special enough to spend money on lobster, and as an adult, I guess I’ve always been afraid to try it.”

“Well, we’re going to have to change that now, aren’t we?”

“Any good seafood places around here?”

He shakes his head. “No, I’ll have to take you to Maine. It’s the only place to get lobster. I refuse to eat any other kind.”

“Lobster snob, are we?”

“Yes.”

“At least you’re honest about it. So, Maine lobster, huh? What do you miss most about living there?”

“As you know, I grew up in a small town where everyone knew everyone and everything happening in each other’s lives. It sometimes felt invasive, but when push came to shove, the town was there for you if you needed something. Also, Bright Harbor and Port Snow are magical during the holiday season. Twinkle lights as far as the eye can see, Christmas music playing all of the time, and little kiosks resurrected on each corner with homemade hot chocolate and cookies. Nothing beats it.”

“I would love to see it one day.”

“Where have you lived?”

“Everywhere,” I say with a sigh. “Ohio, Arizona, Colorado, Nebraska, New Mexico, and here.”

“Wow, that is everywhere. Which was your favorite?”

I think about that through the muddiness of my childhood. “Depends, Colorado was the prettiest, but I have the best memories when we were in New Mexico. That was before everything happened.”

“Can I ask what you mean by everything?” he asks.

Nichole is really the only one that knows about my past. I haven’t felt comfortable with anyone else to talk about this, but I don’t know if it’s the ice cream, the night, or probably the man stretched out in front of me, but I feel like I can trust him.

“My parents were both in the Air Force, I think I mentioned that. My dad was an engineer, and my mom was a therapist. Dad’s role was seen as more important than Mom’s, so my mom always had to follow him around. We moved from base to base because of him, and she had to put up with some lousy facilities because of it. She became bitter. He was gone a lot, promoted more, and my mom never got to prove herself the way she wanted to. She became bitter and took it out on me.”