Page 59 of The Atonement

“I…” Truth was, I didn’t know anymore. Did I even still have a job? “I’m a manager.”

“Oh, nice. That’s crazy.” We were both quiet for a moment. Then, he asked, “So, what are you escaping from in that hotel room?”

I paused, trying to decide what to tell him. Not the truth.

“Too personal?” he asked, interrupting my internal contemplation.

“Maybe just a little.”

“Okay, cool. No worries. Um”—he clicked his tongue—“let’s see, how about something simple: what’s your favorite movie?”

“The Proposal,” I said without having to think.

“Which one’s that?”

“Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds. It’s a rom-com, you probably haven’t—”

“Oh my god, the one with Betty White, right?” He chuckled. “Classic.”

“What about you? Favorite movie?” It felt nice, losing ourselves in meaningless conversation. If I was being honest, it felt nice to talk to someone. Anyone. It felt like I’d been alone for so long.

“Hm, it’s hard to say. I’m more of a TV guy. I really likedLost.”

“I haven’t seen that.”

“It’s good.” Every silence was heavy and weighted, filled with awkwardness as we both fought to fill it with small talk. “So, what about your kids? You have…how many?”

“Three.”

“Wow.” He scratched his chin. “How old are they?”

“Are you trying to decide how old I am?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “Not really, no. That doesn’t matter to me.”

“They’re teenagers, well the boys are. Maisy, the one you met, she’s eleven…going on thirty,” I said finally with a nervous grin.

“Okay, I’m going to pull my first douchebag card of the night and say you donotlook old enough to have teenagers.”

I grinned despite the fact I was pretty sure he’d just called me old in a roundabout way. “Yourfirstcard? How many will there be?”

“I’ll try to keep them to a minimum.” He smirked, pointing up ahead as we neared a restaurant. “Is this okay?”

“This is perfect,” I told him, so relieved to see food I wanted to leap from the truck.

“You’re pretty cool, Ainsley, you know that? Not what I expected.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, don’t take this the wrong way, but when I first met you, I never expected you to be the kind of girl who’d be down for sweats and a drive-through meal as a first date… That level of chill is nice, ya know?”

“I thought this wasn’t a date?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe I’ll get you to reconsider.”

I looked away, hiding the embarrassing way I was enjoying his attention. This hair dye was getting to my head, rewiring my mental responses. Something. This was not like me.

Once we had our food, he parked in a parking garage near the river front and we crossed the street, walking down the concrete steps to find a spot on the grass. The area was mostly quiet, except for a man playing guitar for a small crowd and a group of older women sitting idly reading the same book.