He pulls up his wrist to check his watch. “Well, it’s six o’clock, and the sun will be going down in about an hour or so. Why don’t we walk around first and then go to the wheel? The view from up top is pretty cool at night.”
I bounce my shoulders up and down. “I like your style. Lead the way, my good man.”
Holding out my elbow, I offer him to take it. He eyes me curiously and then slides his arm through mine and gives it a tug.
We stroll through the pier. I pull him into one of the shops, and he follows me around as I look at the trinkets. Then, I stand by as he tries on designer sunglasses at another.
Everywhere we go, Jake knows someone. He gets stopped by a friend from high school as we walk past a carousel, and then while standing outside a tropical garden, he talks to a couple he worked with, doing centerpieces for their wedding. We stop and watch a street performer create a painting, using various objects. Jake is enamored with the creation, so we wait until it is complete, and then he praises the man for a few minutes about his craft.
As the wind blows over the pier, I curl my arms around myself and rub my forearms. Jake notices and slings his arm around me, pulling me close and kissing the top of my head.
When we hear music pouring out from the Beer Garden, we head on over and grab beers, and I watch him ponder over the menu for ten minutes.
“I’m gonna get a burger,” I announce to him as I put my menu on the table.
He’s playing with his lower lip as he scours the list. “The beer-soaked brats here are amazing, but so are the nachos. And I haven’t had a burger in a while.”
I shake my head and watch the band play. “Take your time.”
A few minutes later, a waitress comes over to take our order. Jake still looks conflicted.
I laugh. “Are you always this indecisive?”
“About food? Yes,” he confesses.
I take the menu from him and hand it to the waitress. “We’ll take a bratwurst, nachos, and a burger to share.”
She writes the order down and walks away while Jake looks at me like I saved his life.
“What if I don’t want to share my meal with you?” he asks with a smile.
I shrug. “We ordered three. By the time you decide which one you want, I’ll be done with my half of the burger.”
He waggles a finger at me. “I could use a woman like you in my life.”
“Good thing I’m right next door.” I take a swig of my beer and settle back into my seat.
We listen to the music, drink our beers, and devour our food.
While we eat, Jake tells me jokes, and I laugh like a fool.
“You hid under Milène’s bed in a Freddy Krueger mask?” I ask in disbelief.
“I waited for an hour until she finally got in bed. I almost fell asleep myself.”
“She must have died.”
“As soon as she turned the lights off, I popped out and shouted. She screamed so loud that my parents came bustling in,” he says with a laugh. “She wouldn’t sleep in her room for a month.”
I laugh into the back of my hand. “You’re a horrible brother.”
He holds up a hand in agreement. “The worst. But adorable.”
“An adorable master trickster.”
“That doesn’t count the time I cut the bristles off her toothbrush, threw water balloons at her and her friends from my bedroom window when they were on the trampoline, or wrapped every single piece of makeup that she had in wrapping paper and an absurd amount of tape.”
I shake my head, not believing some of these stories. “The girls must have hated you.”
“Only Milène. Penelope was my baby. I never pranked her.” He takes a sip of his beer and then lifts a finger, as if he just remembered something. “Except for one time. I wrapped her in cellophane and made her into a baby burrito. Her body only. Not her head, of course.”
“Of course.”
“She loved it. Mom, not so much.”
“I can only imagine.”
As an only child, I enjoy hearing his stories about growing up in a full household. Not that mine lacked in any way. In fact, being the sole focus of a woman who felt her daughter needed to see the world for what it was meant a lot of road trips.
“Thirty-nine states,” I say proudly. “I have a road map ready to conquer the last eleven. Five on the West Coast and six on the East.”
“What is your favorite city?”
“Wow. That’s a hard one. I loved certain ones at different times in my life. As a little kid, it was Orlando because Disney World is the most magical place on earth.”
“Why do I have a hard time envisioning your mother at the Magic Kingdom?”
“Don’t let her fool you. She has certain views on life that make her seem hard, but she was fun when I was growing up. Anything I wanted to do, we did, and anything she wanted me to see, I went willingly. We were a great team.”
The sides of his eyes crinkle. “I get that.”
“Indianapolis was awesome because they have the largest children’s museum in the world. In high school, I fell in love with Philadelphia because I was a huge history nerd. In college, I went to DC for a Women’s March, making it one of my favorite experiences. But I have to say, my all-time favorite city is Traverse City.”
He looks like he’s going to spit out his beer. “Michigan?”
I laugh at his reaction. “Yep.”
“Wait. Not New York, Miami, Boston, San Francisco—”
“No to all. They’re really cool, and trust me, I would not turn my nose up at a weekend away to Manhattan, but there’s something about Traverse City that hits my soul. It’s a four-season playground. In the
