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Dad took a sip of his coffee. “What do you want to do next?”
“I want to paint. I want to travel. I want to spend time in places where people are making things and talking about art all the time. New York, Paris, Florence, London. I don’t know. I just don’t want to graduate and immediately settle into some predictable life because that’s what I’m supposed to do.”
“Then don’t.” Dad shrugged. “You’re young. This is probably the only time in your life when nobody should expect you to know exactly where you’ll be five years from now.”
“I know where I don’t want to be.”
“Which is?”
“Stuck.”
He nodded slowly. “Understandable.”
I looked down at the strawberry in my hand.
“I want people to see my work. I want to get into galleries. I want to meet other artists and travel enough that my entire life doesn’t happen in California.”
Dad reached for his coffee again. “Jerry was asking about you the other day.”
“I didn’t realize the two of you were discussing me.”
Dad smiled. “We weren’t discussing you. He mentioned your name.”
“I’m sure he did.”
“He seems very interested in you.”
I groaned. “Please don’t encourage him.”
“I’m not encouraging anyone. I happen to like him.”
“That makes one of us.”
Dad raised an eyebrow.
I laughed. “I like Jerry. I just don’t like him that way. He’s my friend.”
“He’s smart. Comes from a good family. Works hard.”
“Are you selling him to me now?”
“No. I’m saying I understand why someone might consider him.”
“Ew, no.”
Dad studied me for a second before smiling. “Poor Jerry.”
“He’ll survive. His confidence is healthy enough to withstand it.”
“I’ve noticed.” Dad was quiet for a moment before he asked, “Do you ever see yourself getting married?”
“I don’t know. Maybe someday.”
“No rush. I’m only asking.”
“I haven’t really thought about it. Marriage and kids have never been some big plan I’ve had for myself. Does that bother you?”
“Why would it?”
