I WAS HAPPY AND WELL-fed.
Dinner had been delicious. As much as I love Peretti’s lasagna, we’d both decided on steaks and baked potatoes. Jack, who had ordered his steak rare since they didn’t do blue, looked amused when I told the server, “Well-done. Burn it if you have to.”
We discussed our families, and I found out he still loved to go fishing with his dad on their pontoon boat. “I’d ask you to go with me, but I’ve heard how you threw up on that poor dolphin in Gulf Shores last year.”
“Can I help it if I get queasy in the ocean? The boat kept going around and around, and the dolphin just happened to leap up at that particular moment.”
“I’m glad I missed it.”
“I wish I could have, too. It was humiliating. Besides, I think I could tell it was cussing me out to its friends.”
We also
