He shuddered a little, making her laugh again, and she realized this was surprisingly easy, talking to him, relaxing into the moment.
“So have you found anything creepy in your uncle’s belongings?”
He coughed hard at that, seemed to think for a moment, then shook his head. “Just all the normal stuff, really. Lots of old documents. Pictures. That sort of thing.”
“Is your uncle the keeper of family history?”
“You could say that. My mom is still alive, but he’s the only one left on my dad’s side.”
“It’s great that you’re doing this. It’s usually something that falls to women in the family.”
“One of my best friends has hit that place in her life. She’s got three kids and a mom who’s moving in with her.”
“So tough. I see so many customers like that, moving stuff out to make room for an aging parent. Or storing things like your uncle has done.”
“You witness a lot of life in transition,” he said.
That was very true. Maybe that made her comfortable, knowing she wasn’t the only person just filling in the gaps until her life resolved itself.
“So,” he said. “It’s Saturday night. What do you do for fun around here?”
“Don’t ask me. You’re out on the town, and I was just running errands, so you probably know better than I do. You said you spent some teenage summers here, right?”
“Right. So . . . cow tipping? Wait a minute.” He snapped his fingers. “Didn’t there used to be a drive-in theater? I swear I took a date there once.”
“That’s where the business park is! The drive-in sat vacant for a long time. As a matter of fact, I think when you were here . . . Almost twenty years ago? That was an attempted revival. It didn’t work, and someone bought the land to bring in business and revitalize the area. Of course, that didn’t work either.”
“The American dream,” he said, and they toasted.
The server brought their food, but Alex didn’t let it drop. “So you never said what you do for fun.”
Lily stayed silent, trying to decide what to say and what to hide. But he was leaving town soon, which was the only reason she’d even agreed to dinner, so she let herself speak. “I have a son. I was married a long time ago. He’s twelve now, so that’s basically my free time in a nutshell. I am amazing at old Nintendo games and Wii bowling, and I have a black belt in nagging about homework. What about you? Any kids?”
“No kids, but I was married once long ago myself.”
“The American dream,” she echoed, and they clinked glasses again, laughing.
Lily actually felt good. He was easy to talk to, and she imagined it was a skill he’d nurtured at his job. She even found herself stealing glances at him as they ate. He wore a blue plaid button-down, but he’d rolled the sleeves up to his elbows, and she liked watching the muscles of his forearms as he moved. She no longer believed in love, trust, or romance, but she wasn’t a robot.
“Do you run?” she asked. “Or ride a bike?”
His eyebrows rose and disappeared beneath that thick wave of hair. “Yes, I ride. How’d you know?”
“You look the part. Lean muscles.”
Blushing, he smiled like a little boy at that, and delight fizzed through Lily’s veins.
“Thanks. Do you ride?”
“No, I get all my exercise doing maintenance, I guess. And I’ve been busy with classes the past few years.”
“Classes?”
“I’m almost done with my BA in accounting. I plan on being a CPA.”
“You’re going to abandon your Neighborhood Storage post?”
“I am absolutely going to abandon my post.”
After her $15,000 raise, Lily had been able to enroll in an online degree program. Now she was one semester from finally graduating, and she was already studying for the CPA exam.
She’d been in school for accounting when she’d met Jones, after all. It had been their first commonality, something to talk about. She still loved it. A silly career to love, maybe, but numbers made sense, and they never betrayed you. Her deepest, unspoken desire was to get into forensic accounting and catch problems.
Problems like her ex-husband.
“Do you have family here too?” He raised his beer to drink the last of it.
“Not anymore. My dad was from here.” She left it at that.
“And your mom?”
Lily shook her head. “I haven’t seen her in a very long time. When I was eighteen she took off for Florida with a new boyfriend, and frankly, it was kind of a relief to be on my own. Then she spent a long period falling into crazy political crap on Facebook, so . . . I guess I didn’t cut her out so much as mute her.”