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“Ah, so that’s why you texted me,” I said with my chin to my knees, blowing the paint dry on my toes.

“No. I really needed to know about the Q-tip thing.”

“I see,” I said, smiling. “Then you went home?”

“I stopped for gas and then I went home. I texted you my Princess Anna picture. Here we are.”

“And where are we exactly?” I asked. “What do you see on your walk?”

“Hold on, I’ll show you.”

I had a tiny moment of panic thinking he was about to video call me, but instead a picture came through.

“This is where I’m walking right now. I took this the other day at sunset.”

It was a picture of a city skyline taken from the middle of a wide concrete walking bridge with a rust-colored railing.

“This is the Stone Arch Bridge.” Another picture came through. “That’s the Mississippi.”

The river was tree-lined. It was really pretty, urban but naturey at the same time.

I exited and googled the bridge and hit Images. “I’m looking at the bridge online. There are a lot of engagement photos.”

“I see about one proposal a week,” he said. “It’s a very popular spot to pop the question.”

“Public proposals are hostage situations,” I said, going back to his picture and zooming in. I could see the back of a billboard and I wondered if that was his apartment building just beyond it.

“You wouldn’t want to be proposed to in public?” he asked.

“Noooo.”

“Yeah, I never really got that whole concept. It feels like something that should be intimate, right? Doing it in front of a bunch of strangers just feels so performative.”

“That is exactly what I was telling Maddy a few weeks ago. Some guy proposed in front of a whole stadium at this game we went to—and the girl said no.”

He sucked air through his teeth. “Talk about not knowing your audience.”

I heard barking. “Brad?” I asked.

“No, a husky barking at Brad. Do you like dogs?”

“Who doesn’t like dogs?”

He was smiling in the pause. “So back to Minnesota being the greatest state in the nation—”

I sighed. “Okay. You’re making a small case for visiting Minnesota, I will give you that. But it’s probably never going to happen. It’s not in our top twenty-five list of states to visit.”

“How do you get a state bumped up the list?”

“You don’t.” I slid off the bed to brush my hair. “It’s never happened.”

“Hmmm. So how do you decide which state to go to next? Are they in order?”

“No. We look at all the determining factors. What time of year it is, the weather during our stay, if there’s any concerts or festivals that will be there, what kind of house we can get, what hospital we’d get to work in and what positions they’re looking to fill.” I pulled off my towel and my long, wet hair tumbled out. I was brushing it when Justin gasped.

“Oh my God. Someone’s proposing on the bridge,” he said. “Seriously. Hold on, I’ll get you a picture.”

I smiled and started working my damp hair into a bun.