Archive for April, 2009

As if on cue they arrived at a strip mall, and Michael seized the opportunity to change the topic. “So what choices do we have?” “Well, there’s Luigi’s Italian, Mariano’s, Deli, and this place called Pan Seared, which I like because it has outdoor seating.” “Perfect for today.” Michael smiled.


“Um, thanks.” He replied trying to sound sincere. The compliment had taken him aback. “No really, I thought you were lower thirties or something.” Katie was nodding her head, trying unnecessarily to make him believe her. She wasn’t the first person to tell him he looked young for his age.


“No way. Thirty-eight?” She exclaimed. Michael wasn’t sure how to react. She was obviously surprised, but she didn’t seem appalled. He decided to go with a response that would make him seem younger. “Way.” He said, giving his best grin. “I never would have guessed, you look so young.”


Mid-shock recovery he realized that she had asked for his age. He wouldn’t lie because he didn’t like lying, but he worried that telling her would alter the afternoon’s tone. She was still looking at him as they walked, and he knew he needed to answer soon. “Thirty-eight.”


After a quick internal debate over tact, he gave up and said, “Really? How old are you?” “Twenty-five, you?” Twenty-five! Michael was shocked. He had been certain she was in her thirties, early thirties, but still. This certainly could complicate things. He was undeniably too old for her.


A small triangular crease formed between her brows while she moved her mouth, counting. “Three years ago.” Michael thought that three years shouldn’t require such a struggled tally, but was more perplexed by the number. Either she’d moved here well after college or she was much younger than he’d guessed.


“Long story.” Katie replied after a long pause. “But I moved to Jacksonville because I like the beach.”  Michael wondered what that long story actually was, but decided she didn’t want to be pressed. He attempted to backhandedly ask her how old she was. “How long have you lived here?”


It turned out he’d moved back in with his mother, a fortune teller who worked from home, because he was kicked out of his complex for a noise complaint. Katie learned this after she’d arrived and had no money to go home. She’d stayed one night, then moved to Jacksonville.


Katie paused. The answer was embarrassing. She had moved here for a guy she met during spring break her senior year of college. He was a bartender in Daytona and they had hit it off while she was here. They’d kept in touch, and that summer she’d moved to Daytona.


“What made you move down here to where the education system is the worst-funded in the country?” “It’s not the worst, but it is close.” Katie replied, laughing. “No, I moved here because I hate the cold.” “Why here though? Why not Arizona or Texas? Or even South Carolina?”