His eyes grow shiny, and I don’t ask anything more. I take his plate, which I’m certain is cold by now, and place it in the microwave.
“I’m sure you’ve heard from your boyfriend about what happened with that young girl,” he says while the food is heating. His gaze goes to his hands, folded on the table in front of him.
Behind me the microwave hums. “Connor is not my boyfriend, and yes, he told me about the girl, but I’d rather hear about it from you.”
He looks at me gratefully. “I don’t know what came over me that day. It was only a month since Daisy had died, but that’s no excuse. I could blame it on the war too. That kind of training never really leaves a person, but that would be an excuse also. The truth is, I just flipped a switch that day. She pulled up too close to me at a red light, and I stopped thinking and started acting.”
“Did you really say…those words to her?” The microwave beeps, penetrating the thickness in the air.
I take a few extra moments retrieving his food, but really I’m giving him the chance to answer without having my eyes on him. By now I know what he’s going to say, he doesn’t need me to watch him say it.
“I wish I could tell you no, but that wouldn’t be the truth.”
I take the steaming hot food to him. He thanks me as I place it in front of him.
“Everyone makes mistakes, Walt.” I gesture to the plate. “Eat.”
He takes a bite. “You’re awfully young to be so wise.”
“I’m not wise, not by a long shot. I do know that I’m not saying another word until you eat your favorite food while it’s hot.”
He obliges. When he finishes, we take our glasses and pitcher to Ginger’s outdoor table. Unlike Walt, Ginger’s table is in the yard, not on the porch. Each seat has throw pillows and the table has built-in cup holders.
When we get settled, he turns his shrewd eyes on me. “Are you ever going to tell me why you’re hiding?”
I look away, up to the tallest nearby pine, where a squirrel runs up the length of the trunk. “Who said I’m hiding?”
“It takes one to know one.”
I bring my knees into my chest and rest my chin on the crevice they form. “Walt, I had a good life, or what I thought was a good life. I see now that it was empty. Full of meaningless nights and friends, and then something happened.” I falter, my throat thickening as soon as the thought enters my brain. “Something really, really bad, and even though it wasn’t my fault, it felt like my fault. Then things got even worse. My whole life was torn apart, examined, and conclusions were drawn. I withstood it far longer than I should have. Finally I decided to leave it all behind.”
Walt is quiet, watching me. Could he possibly understand?
“So you came here?” he asks.
“For the time being.”
He nods once. “This is a stop along the way?”
“Um hmm.”
“Does your boyfriend know that?”
I look at him, irritated, and he gives the look right back to me. “I already told you, Connor is not my boyfriend. He can hardly stand me.” I know this to be untrue, but it’s important I tell myself this lie. It helps me keep him at arm’s length.
“Have you ever met a boss who picks up his employee for work, and takes them home at the end of the day?”
I shake my head, my lips moving into a small smile. “Do you spy every day, all day?”
Walt, for the first time since I met him, laughs. “There isn’t much for an old man to do.”
We chat for a little while longer, but not about heavy things. He tells me about Connor’s dad before he got sick, and I tell him about my parents’ business. He asks a lot of questions about deep sea fishing, most of which I cannot answer.
When his eyes begin to droop, I wrap up leftovers for him and walk him home.
Back at my place, I clean up the kitchen, get ready for bed, and double check the door alarms on both the front and back doors. I climb into bed, thinking of tonight and wish I’d thought to take Walt’s picture while he was here.
When I leave, I want to remember him.
