“How did you and Grant meet?”

“Oh. Okay.” It was bizarre to tell this story to Leo, like two worlds meant to orbit apart now colliding. “We met in—”

“Bali. That part I know.”

“How?”

“The Delray Jewish News.”

“Stalker.” They both laughed. A speedboat flew by on Joey’s side. An older couple waved; the wife raised her beer. Joey knew how she and Leo must appear—lovebirds. Rich lovebirds.

In another world maybe. Another life.

“So we met in Bali after I left law because—”

“Tell me how you met, Jonesey. The real story. You know?”

She knew what he meant. “Well, I was…” She had to stop because telling this part of the story brought her back. It felt dangerous, this slice of her life, like it had been tended to and bandaged so beautifully after leaving law but then since Leo’s return the bandages had begun to fray. “Leo, I was totally fucking lost. I surfed into Grant—you know that part from our engagement notice, I guess. I told him I’d buy him a smoothie bowl to make up for it. So we were at this café in the rice paddies. I was telling him about my law days and how I was going to start painting again, but I didn’t know where I wanted to live, or what I wanted to do, or really who I was.”

Joey smiled at the memory of it, the two of them on stools by the window with its shutters perpetually swung open. The sun had sopped up all their wet, leaving two sandy, very tan Americans, stray dogs at their feet, with reams of shirtless Australian men roaring up on motorbikes.

“Grant said, Well, if you don’t know who you are, let’s figure it out.” This was the part that demanded a reaction—a chorus of so cute echoed from friends of her mother to women in supermarket lines alike. Leo just looked ahead, riveted to the sea as if he hadn’t seen tidaling blue in this iteration a billion times before.

“So Grant said, Papaya or watermelon?”

“Papaya or watermelon?” repeated Leo.

“Yeah, like which is your favorite? And I couldn’t figure it out, Leo. That’s how long it had been since I thought about what I liked. And so Grant shouted through the place, Waitress, can we have two of your finest pieces of papaya and watermelon? It was over the top, but that’s him. Or it was. Bali Grant was really…free. So anyhow, she brought over two plates. One had watermelon. One papaya. And I ate fruit upon fruit, and you know what? I liked the watermelon more.” Leo’s eyes didn’t stray from the sea. “Now’s your cue to smile, Winn.”

“So you figured out you’re a person who likes watermelon more?”

“Yeah.” Joey’s cheeks warmed, and it wasn’t the sun. “Why are you knocking my love story?”