“Nice place,” he said, handing me the rose.
I took it and found a vase. That is to say, I took it and found a tall cup that wasn’t all that dirty. “Tiny place, but thanks.” I looked over at him. He was gazing back at me. “And thanks for the flower. And for, you know, coming over. Were you just in the neighborhood?”
“Nope.” Again with the nope. “Too much studying. I went for a drive and, well, kept on driving. That okay? I know I should’ve called first, but I wasn’t sure this is where I’d end up.” He grinned, and I could’ve sworn that the rose stood up a little straighter. “Hoped for, though.” His smile rose northward. His smile was now someplace above Canada. His smile was big and bright and beautiful. Somewhere there was an orthodontist with a large trophy case.
And, yes, his smile was
