David looks back at his menu, and I pause, taking him in. In all of our conversations, he never said he missed back home. I think being here has brought some insight into his life.
“So, why did you pick Columbia to go to school and not somewhere here?” I ask and instantly regret it when his head snaps up.
“How did you know I went to Columbia?” His brow furrows in question.
I internally panic, then just spit out, “It’s kind of a prestigious school. People at the office know that’s where you went.”
Thank goodness he buys my answer and continues, “I wanted something different. Something more.”
“And did you find it? That something more?”
He closes his menu and meets my eyes with a nod. “Yeah. I mean, we have a kick-ass job. I couldn’t ask for much more there.”
I purse my lips and tilt my head just a little. “But you miss home?”
He lets out a breath. “Yeah. Not all the time. Being here makes me feel that way. But we’ll get home and in the swing of things, and I’ll be right back to normal.”
“So, what is your normal then?” I ask, changing the question to hopefully lift his spirits back up.
“My normal?” he asks, his face not hiding the fact that he’s surprised I asked such a personal question.
“Yeah. What do you do for fun? You made a big stink about me not having a boyfriend staking claim on me while being on a trip with you. But what about you? I don’t think I’ve seen you on your phone once since we’ve been here.”
He shrugs. “I’m not really a phone guy during the day.”
“Now, is that just a rule because you’re working or because you don’t really have anyone to talk to?”
“Probably both,” he says nonchalantly as the waitress brings our drinks.
“Here you go.” She sets them down, then pulls out her notepad. “Do you guys have any questions, or do you know what you want?”
David and I look at each other, a moment flashing between us like we both thought the same answer to that question but it has nothing to do with food.
I quickly blink to break our eye contact and point to the menu still open on the table in front of me. “I’ll take the BLT.”
She nods, writes it down, and then turns to David. “And for you?”
“I’d love to try your fried chicken, ma’am.”
She grins from ear to ear. “Good choice. Sam back there has a very special recipe.”
“Why do I get the feeling I’m missing out on something here?” I point between the two of them. “Is fried chicken a Montana thing?”
David lets out a sharp laugh. “No. It’s not aMontana thing, but if a diner has it on their menu, you have to try it. There’s nothing like real fried chicken. Not the fast-food-chain kind.”
“He’s right. And Sam’s cooking is one of the things I love about him,” the waitress says with pride.
“Then change my order to the fried chicken. I need to find out what I’ve been missing all these years.”
“You got it.” She grabs our menus and leaves us alone again.
I reach for my tea and bring back up our conversation. “So then, there is no girl in your life. Why not?”
He shrugs. “I was engaged, as you learned last night.”
I nod.And through our text messages, but that’s beside the point.
“What happened?” I ask even though I already know.
