“Not for me,” he replied. “Personally, I like the reassurance of a bulk item. It’s hopeful.”
“I never thought of it that way.”
“You probably didn’t move a lot either.” He shifted his other hand to lower the window the rest of the way. The truckwas hot, even with a breeze coming in. “Things were pretty sparse, growing up with my dad. The less we had, the less we had to pack.”
“So more than one tube means you’re staying awhile,” I said, clarifying.
“Especially if you put it away in a cabinet.” He whistled. “Screamslong-term.”
I looked at his tee, all those little planets. “So, moving. Is that why all the different schools? On the shirts?”
“Yup. Also, we were thrift-shop regulars. Always a lot of local team gear.” He glanced down at it as well. “This was in Florida. There were orange trees in the school courtyard. I was there a full year that time.”
“I haven’t seen one repeat yet,” I observed.
“It’s kind of a uniform now.” He glanced at me. “That’s another thing that says you’re stable, just FYI. If you have a collection of something, like snow globes or action figures, you don’t move a lot.”
“Now I’m picturing your apartment full of toothpaste and snow globes.”
“It’s not. But only because I’m just here for the summer.” He put on the turn signal, switching lanes. “During the year, I’m in college in Boston. Dorm rooms are tiny.”
“Why’d you move so much?” I asked. “Is your dad military or something?”
“No, just restless.” He sighed. “He was in real estate at one point. Managed a medical supply company. But mostly ran restaurants and bars. That’s how he met Marshall. They workedtogether at a place called Fishbones that used to be down by the Tides. Kasey, too.”
“What about your mom?”
“Died when I was six. Car accident.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Thanks.” A beat. “She was kind of our anchor, as it turned out. From then on, we were never any one place for long.”
“When did you come here?”
“The start of eighth grade. We were in Arkansas first. Then Texas, followed by our first stint in Florida.”
“Wow,” I said. “I suddenly feel very uncultured. I’ve only ever lived in Lakeview.”
He made a face. “Dad had a way of wearing out his welcome, even in big states. Also, he tended to get married. The two were not unrelated.”
This was a lot to keep up with. I could only imagine living it. “But did you stay put? Once you were here?”
“Nope. Only stuck around for that one year. But Clark and I got tight, so after that I came back every summer.” An alarmingly large bug bounced off the windshield. “Marshall and Kasey became like my second parents, so I had a standing invite. They always had a lot of toothpaste.”
I smiled. “So where’s your dad now?”
“Utah, with his fourth wife,” he replied. “She’s Mormon. They’re in the bowling alley business. What about yours?”
“My dad?” I asked. He nodded. “Works at a private school. He met my stepmom there when I was little. I’ve got three siblings: twins that are six and a baby.”
“So you don’t live with Cat,” he said.
“I didn’t even know anybody called her that until we got here,” I said. It seemed like ages ago she’d pulled up in that sports car, the first of this series of surprises. “She left when I was four. We do visits a few times a year, but have never exactly been close.”
“Right,” he said. “I guess that explains why you’ve never come down for the summer.”
Somehow, it was only then that I realized my mom wasn’t the only mystery to everyone here. And at least she had roots. I was a stranger. Except for a few details. Like, now my toothpaste preference.
