“It’s expensive,” Mira said. “That’s to be expected though.”

“It’s also not the same as anything you’ll get outside of this place, but that’s to be expected too.”

Mira returned Jesse’s smile with her own. A pang of nostalgia hit her. “We should have gone to Catfish Joe’s. Remember how we used to go on the weekends? Celine and I would share a fish plate and you’d always steal my hush puppies even though you said you never liked them.”

Catfish Joe’s. She couldn’t count the number of times they used to go. Run by a retired black couple, it was a small shack of a building several blocks from the downtown. Not much to look at, but who could care when the fish was freshly caught every morning? Only the people who knew its worth went. During the day it was mostly regulars on their lunch breaks. You ordered from the window and later one of the owners would bring out the food, glistening from the grease. It was all outdoor seating of patio chairs and foldable tables. Jesse, Celine, and Mira would go when they’d gathered enough money to spare and sit and eat. They always went near closing, once the air had cooled and most everyone who was going to eat had done it already. By that time the lot was empty and it could be just them, sitting under the setting sun sharing a meal with no one else to bother them.

As Mira talked about Catfish Joe’s, a lingering fondness sprung up in her voice. Back then it had just been a place they’d gone to, but it held a significance to her now.

“Catfish Joe’s is gone,” Jesse said bluntly.

“What? When?”

“A few years ago. Joe’s wife, Helen, died and he couldn’t keep up the place himself. I guess didn’t want to maybe. The building is still there but like a lot of things in this town, there’s only the ghost of what was.”

“What a shame.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know though—people in town seem to think this Woodsman place is going to change things, bring money into the town, revive it again, and maybe they’re right. Lord knows jobs are sorely needed here. I just wish there was some other way.”