Jim lives downtown, in an attic apartment of a three-story Victorian row home located a few blocks from the James River. When he first told Alan the address, Alan joked, “Jim on the James. Sounds like one of those fusion cuisine restaurants they’re always opening around here.”
“Well, that isn’t where we’re going to eat,” Jim said with a laugh. “Jim on the James can’t boil water.”
“Then you’ll have to come over here one evening,” Alan said. “I know my way around the kitchen. I’d love to have someone to cook for.”
“What about Brooks?”
Now it was Alan’s turn to laugh. “He’s a teenage boy. He eats anything I put in front of him. Fine dining is wasted on kids his age. They’d rather have pizza.”
Alan doesn’t know where Jim is taking him to eat, but his only request is that it’s somewhere ne
