Today's Reading
Shiloh nodded. Then nodded again. "Nice suit."
Cary looked down. "Thanks. We had tuxes at the last one, but this time, Janine was like, 'You don't have to rent a tux, you can just buy a navy blue suit that you can wear again.'" Cary looked back up at Shiloh. "I don't think she realizes it's way more expensive to buy a suit than to rent a tux."
"She probably doesn't care."
"Yeah, probably not. It's her big day. I'm just an accessory."
"Did you fly in?"
"Yeah." Cary nodded. "Yeah."
"From Virginia?" Shiloh was pointing for some reason.
"From San Diego, actually."
"Oh." Shiloh moved her hand to point in the other direction. "You were right the first time," Cary said, moving her wrist back.
She laughed, embarrassed. "North, south..."
Cary was laughing, too, a little bit. "East, west."
"Right, right."
"I was in Virginia," he said. "But I got stationed in San Diego two years ago."
"I thought maybe you were on a boat somewhere..."
"I do work on a ship," he said.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." He nodded again. He was still kind of laughing. "But I live in an apartment."
"So, like, your office is on a ship?"
"Yeah."
Shiloh was still kind of laughing, too. Even though nothing was funny and everything was awkward. "I don't have any idea how the Navy works," she admitted.
"That's okay," he said. "Why would you?"
Yeah. Why would Shiloh know how Cary spent his days and nights? Or where he'd been? What he did, how he felt...
"Well, I do pay your salary," she said. "So I should really be better informed."
"I've been meaning to talk to you about that..."
Shiloh huffed out a laugh. "Have you."
He was smiling right into her eyes. Shiloh had heels on, so she was a little taller than him. "Mikey says you're still in Omaha," Cary said.
She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "I am."
"He said you're in theater."
"I'm not in theater," she said quickly.
"I work at the children's theater."
"That's in theater."
"It's mostly administration."
"It sounds interesting."
"It's..." Shiloh was shaking her head. "Very nonprofit."
"And you have kids. I mean, your own."
"I do," she said. "Two. A girl and a boy."
Cary was nodding.
"Six and almost three," Shiloh said.
"I should have asked how old."
"You're not obligated."
"Do you have photos?"
"Um..." Did she? She glanced down at her bag.
"It's okay," Cary said, looking apologetic. Awkward. "Sorry. I thought you'd want me to ask."
"I guess I never do that—show pictures. Because I never know what to say when people show me pictures of their kids, and I'm a parent."
"I usually say, Well, look at that."
"That's a good line." Shiloh laughed. More naturally. "It's not that my kids aren't cute or something. They're very cute—you'll just have to take my word on it."
"I do." Cary was smiling again. His mouth was closed, and there were deep lines in his cheeks. He'd always had a face full of lines—in his cheeks, under his eyes, in his forehead. Even in high school. Like he had a little too much face for the space. Cary crinkled when he was happy and creased when he was angry.
...
