“She died when I was little.”
Immediately, Maileah’s heart went out to Sailor. She vaguely remembered her mother or grandmother mentioning that, but she hadn’t been paying much attention. She glanced at his father. “Did your dad ever date again?”
“Some, but it was tough on him. The bike shop took up most of his time. My grandparents helped a lot.”
She had never thought about Sailor having an extended family. “Are they still living?”
“Both sets. My dad’s parents are here, and he looks after them. My mother’s parents travel a lot. They have an RV they park on the mainland, and they take off for months. They like to hike in the mountains for inspiration.”
“Inspiration?” she repeated.
“They’re artists. Used to be photojournalists forNational Geographicmagazine, mainly covering Central and South America. They were pretty cool when they were younger.” He paused. “Does your date have a name?”
“Todd.”
“And will you see him again?”
“Probably. If he calls.”
Sailor gave her a look she couldn’t make out. “He looks like an accountant. What does he do?”
She smiled. “That.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
Sailor plucked a paper napkin from the holder and beganfolding it into triangles as he spoke. “Well, if that’s what you want. Sounds dull to me.”
“We can’t all ride the waves.”
“I’m one of the lucky ones, I know.” He lobbed the little triangle football toward her.
She caught it and laughed, and they continued talking.
At a pause in the conversation, Sailor asked, “What are you going to do with your one wild, fabulous life, Maisie?”
“Only Junie does that,” she said.
“Does what?”
“The nickname thing. She calls me Mayday, Maybelle, Maybelline, and a bunch of others.”
“Does that bother you?”
“It did at first. I was born plain old May Raines-Smith. As if I engineer rainfall for the month of May or something.”
“For real, right?” Sailor laughed. “Try being named Sailor. Everyone assumes I sail. I mean, I do, but not like I surf.”
“You can call me Maisie. Or May. I don’t mind.” Sailor acted more like a brother, she figured, so why not?
His father finished his closing set, and the diner grew quiet. Sailor drummed his hands on the table. “Need a lift back to Junie’s?”
“I’ll walk. That’s how I came. See you around.” She slid out of the booth.
As Maileah headed for the door, she wondered if she was finally on the right track or forcing herself into a mold that didn’t quite fit. The balmy, salt-kissed night air greeted her as she stepped outside. She took a deep breath, feeling oddly conflicted.
Todd was pleasant, precisely the kind of man she should be interested in. Junie would be proud of her for a change. Still, she’d only just met him. He could still be a crazed axe murderer playing against type. An odd thought struck her. Wasn’t she doing the same thing?
