“These were part of a set of eight. Or maybe twelve? From the wedding registry. Williams Sonoma. I only grabbed two when I moved out. I don’t have dinner parties and”—he nods at Kira’s bedroom—“my roommate’s kind of a lightweight.”
I watch him rinse off the glasses. “I thought dad jokes were supposed to be corny puns or something.”
“Hey, I’ll take that as an acknowledgment of my dry dad wit.” Nick dries the glasses and places one in front of me on the island. “Anyway, it didn’t really seem necessary to get a full set. You drink wine, right?”
“Nothing goes better with cold pizza.”
Nick gives both glasses a healthy pour. “It’s Trader Joe’s Pinot Noir, but it does the trick.”
I’m not about to turn down wine; my nerves are shot from trying to keep up with Kira and her minefield of questions while trying not to think about the theoretical messages I’m potentially missing on my phone. Hal and I don’t make plans in advance, but I’m confident there’s a text from him waiting forme.
“Do you mind if I continue unpacking the boxes?” he asks. “I get so much more done when Kira’s asleep.”
“I can help.” I grab the box cutter sitting on his kitchen island. “I’ll break down this tower of cardboard.”
“You don’t have to do that,” he says.
I take a sip of wine, sit on the floor, and slice into the first box, collapsingit.
“I like to make myself useful.” Because I feel pretty damn useless most of the time.
Perry would have this place unpacked in a matter of hours. It’s not a mindset I understand. I grew up surrounded bystuff.Boxes, stacks, piles, loosely organized according to a system that made sense to my dad.
Nick nods toward the TV, which is paused on an old episode ofStar Trek.“Feel free to change that if you want to watch something. The remote’s somewhere on the sofa.”
“I’ve never seen this show,” I say. “I mean, this version. I know my dad watched one of the newer ones sometimes. He probably knows who Kira Nerys is.”
“Did you know that you also have aStar Trekname? Doctor Katherine Pulaski was a character onNext Generationfor one season.”
I look up from the flattened box. “Are you a Trekkie?”
“Oh, I watch all of them.” Nick pulls bubble wrap out of a large box labeledKitchen Appliances. “But I have a soft spot for the original. It’s what I put on to decompress—when I get home from work, or whatever. I’ve probably seen every episode hundreds of times.”
“It’s your comfort show.”
“I go through phases with it,” he says, lifting a toaster out of the box. “I was obsessed when I was a kid. My sister and I had a play set and we would invent our own storylines.”
“I think Kira’s following in your footsteps with her ‘OCs.’ ”
“She is definitelymydaughter.” He laughs. “It faded away when I was a teenager because I was convinced that being too knowledgeable about a science fiction franchise was the one thing keeping me from being incredibly popular. Then in college I rediscovered it. I’d put it on and get really stoned and it felt so relaxing.”
“I’ll bet.” I make a long, straight slice along the crease of a cardboard box.
“In retrospect, the getting stoned aspect was probably the biggest part of the appeal.” He chuckles, grabbing another pieceof kitchen equipment out of the box and unwrapping it. “Now, I’m just a casual viewer.”
I squint at the circular item he’s holding. “Is that a spaceship?”
“It’s a waffle maker in the shape of the starshipEnterprise,” he says sheepishly. “Kira thinks it’s fun.”
“Oh,Kirathinks that?” I bite back a smile. “You’re just a very casual viewer.”
“I do have some collectibles,” he says. He glances at a stack of unopened moving boxes on the other side of the TV. “They’ve been packed away for a long time.”
I stand up and walk over to the boxes. “These are allStar Trekcollectibles?”
“I feel like this is creating the wrong impression.” He puts down the waffle maker and stands next to me. “I swear, this is a very small part of my life,” he says, laughing. “These boxes are, like, ninety percent packing material. It looks like more than it is.”
“Hey, you saw the boxes in my, uh, room.” I stumble over the words slightly, never sure how to phrase it. “I’m the last person who should be giving you a hard time over a niche hobby.”
