Hello, Sunshine

Rain and I sat next to each other on two stools facing the ocean, facing the rain, the song quietly playing, eating silently.

We each had an entire sandwich, and then we split another.

“That’s pretty much the best sandwich ever,” she said, finally.

“Right?” I said. “And they all say I can’t cook!”

She laughed. “Too bad they won’t let you do a show on just that.”

“They probably would,” I said. “They’d call it Say Cheese. And it would be all things cheese.”

“And toast,” Rain said.

“No. There’s someone else who has that market cornered.”

“The toast market? I was kidding. That’s a thing?”

I nodded. “Amber’s.”

She shook her head. “Exhausting.”

Then she took our plates and walked to the sink, turning on the faucet.

“I’m going to wash these by hand,” she said.

I followed her and reached for the dishtowel. “I’ll dry,” I said.

“Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m not using the fancy dishwasher?” she said.

I shrugged. “I figure you have your reasons,” I said.

“I’ve read that now you can attach all your appliances to your phone so you know when any of them have been used,” she said. “I don’t want her getting a ping somewhere that people have broken into her house.”

“To clean it?”

“I’m sure weirder things have happened.”

She focused on the dishes, handing over the first plate.

“Danny called looking for you.”

“When?” I said.

“Last night,” she said. “I didn’t talk to him.”

I nodded, taking that in. I had no idea why he would call her as opposed to calling me directly.

“He’s called before.”

I looked up at her.

“He’s called a few times to check in and make sure you were doing okay. But he shouldn’t have,” she said. “Not after what he did.”

“Do you believe him? That he had good intentions?”

“Yes. But that makes me angrier.”

“Why?”