I could, but I don’t want to get accused of trying to infiltrate his life again. Or do I?
Me:I may offer to cook sometime. Just not tonight. See you later.
Mom: Love you.
Me: Love you too.
* * *
The three ofus are sitting quietly in Nash’s pickup. I know for me, it’s because I feel warm and content thanks to my full belly. Pascal’s Pizza is even better than I remembered. I had a hard time not wolfing down half the pizza on my own. I’m going to have to kickbox like my life depends on it at my next workout to combat the extra calories. And I’ll do it because I want to be able to eat the things I love.
“Good pizza, eh?” Nash asks from the driver’s seat.
“Delicious.”
“Still not as good as your stew and bread.”
I laugh. “Well, that’s not even my specialty.”
His face is illuminated by the dashboard lights, enough that I can see his head turn slowly my way. “If that wasn’t your specialty, what is?”
“Fried chicken.”
Nash moans, and it makes me giggle. “I take it you like fried chicken.”
“Love it. It’s probably my favorite meal.”
I knew that. I remember. “I’ll make it for you sometime.”
“You will? Promise?”
“Sure.” I mean, why not? We’re quiet for several minutes, and it feels weird, so I say, “Nice truck.” I run my hand over the tan leather seats.
“You like it?” He turns his head to look at me. And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he really wants to know how I feel about his brand-new, forest green, four-door Ford F-250 pickup.
“What’s not to like? It’s got all the bells and whistles.” And it does. The thing is loaded. I look at the dash and note all of the extras on this truck compared to his old one. Heated seats, satellite radio, dual climate controls. Heck, there’s even a small video screen for Andi to watch stuff from the back. It’s got it all.
He nods. “It does. I think it was time to upgrade.”
“But you kept your old truck, right?”
“I did. For work.” Nash chuckles. “I don’t want to mess this one up. It’s the nicest vehicle I’ve ever owned.”
“I love the color too.”
“Yeah?” He looks over at me again. “Andi picked it out.”
I look back over the front seat at a sleeping Andi. “Makes sense. It matches her eyes.” And his, but I’m not about to say that aloud.
“It does.” Nash nods. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
Changing the subject quickly, I ask, “So, Nash, what did you think about Isaac’s news?” My brother and his wife, Kelly, finally came home to visit last weekend because they had news. The kind of news that’s good for them, bad for the rest of us.
“I’m bummed but not surprised. He hates the job in Omaha.”
I knew that too. My brother has a degree in electrical engineering, and he’s been working for a small family-owned business in Omaha that specializes in substations and things like that. Honestly, I have no idea what a substation is, but Isaac does. Anyway, he just accepted a job in San Diego, California doing something similar but in a much larger company, and he’s thrilled for the move. He’s always wanted to live somewhere sunny—not that it isn’t sunny here. It is, but he wants sun 365 days per year. I guess he’ll get that there.
“I’m still surprised he didn’t want to farm. He used to love it.”
