“I apologize.”
“You may try again.”
So I did.
The sun lowered while we remained on the seawall, close enough that our shoulders touched.
Ellie had invited me for two days.
For once, I did not ask for more.
Twenty Five
Ellie
Dinner at Rosa’s was almost normal.
Almost normal meant Annie kept the bad hat on until Rosa made her remove it at the table, two people photographed the back of her head while pretending to admire the dessert case, and Captain Pancake spent the entire meal dismantling the stuffed lobster beneath Hank’s chair.
By the time Rosa brought the rice, the lobster had lost its sailor hat, both claws, and most of its internal structure.
“He likes it,” Hank said.
“He has reduced it to evidence,” I replied.
“That is how he shows commitment.”
Captain Pancake tore loose another strip of white stuffing.
Annie looked beneath the table.
“I appreciate his enthusiasm.”
“He has expensive taste,” Hank said.
“He never learned what it cost.”
“That has never stopped anyone.”
Rosa placed the bowl directly in front of Annie.
“You eat.”
“I was planning to.”
“No granola.”
“I haven’t had granola in days.”
“You look like you remember it.”
Annie turned toward me.
“Have they always monitored food this aggressively?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you invite me back?”
