“What’s your memoir about?” I asked, buying myself some time.
“It’s about my father.”
“The pirate,” I said. Arden nodded. “How long did you live on the boat?”
“Nine years, off and on.”
“That’s a long time. Where did you go?”
“The Bahamas, Turks and Caicos, Dominican Republic, some other, lesser known islands. Never Cuba, though. My dad always avoided it.”
“What about your schooling?”
Arden shrugged. “I read a lot of books. During high school we only took trips during the summer, so I was able to enroll in the public school. I was behind, though. I’m still terrible at math. And money. Kind of ironic.”
“How so?”
He shot me a furtive glance, as though he’d revealed more than he intended. “No reason.” His eyes darted from me to our surroundings as if waiting for me to pass judgment.
“I like your place.”
Arden smiled. “You’re just saying that.”
“No, I do. It’s interesting, like you.”
“I’m not, though. I’m actually very simple. My life is more interesting than me.”
“How can you separate the two?”
Arden shrugged. “Adventure always seems to find me. I don’t go looking for it.”
It sounded as if he’d rather avoid it altogether. I took a step closer, so that I could grab one of his hands. His butterscotch eyes turned green.
“I like you,” I said.
“I like you too.”
“Are you in a relationship?”
He studied me for a moment. “It’s… complicated.”
“Are you dating a carbohydrate?” I teased, and he smiled.
“I’m not relationship material.”
“What makes you say that?”
He sighed. “I really didn’t want to do this yet.”
“What’s that?” I assumed he’d meant rebuffing me.
“Give you my life story.”
“I have the time, and I’d love to hear it.”
Arden appeared at odds with himself. I waited.
“Fine but take off your shoes and get comfortable.”
