The Return(32)

“It was,” she said, seemingly growing more comfortable with sharing. “I have no complaints about our family life.”

“I don’t know too many people who can say that. I thought everyone had issues with their parents.”

“I’m not saying they were perfect, but it was easier for me and my siblings because they get along so well. Considering they work together all day and then go home together, you’d think they’d get tired of each other. But my dad is still crazy about my mom, and she dotes on him. There was a lot of laughter and we had dinner together every night as a family.”

I grinned, marveling at how different our childhoods had been. “What led you to choose NC State? After you finished high school?”

“It’s where my dad went to school,” she answered. “My mom went to Meredith, which is an all-girls college in Raleigh. But after Salem Academy, I wanted a big, public, coed school. I also knew it would make my dad happy. In fact, all of us—my brother and sister—went to NC State. We’re all die-hard Wolfpack fans, in case you’re wondering. Even my mom has been converted. My dad has season tickets for football and we usually have a family tailgate once or twice a year. My parents go to every home game.”

“And that’s where you met the guy you followed to New Bern, right?”

“Mark,” she said, adding nothing else.

“You loved him?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said, her gaze falling. “But he’s not someone I want to talk about.”

“Fair enough,” I said. “I think I have a pretty good idea of who you are, even without that part of your life.”

“You do, huh?”

“Well, some of it, anyway.”

“What’s confusing you?”

“I’m still not sure why you decided to become a deputy. You strike me as more like the teacher or nurse type. Or maybe an accountant.”

“Should I be offended by that?”

“I’m not saying you’re not tough enough. I guess it’s just that you strike me as intelligent, caring, and thoughtful. It’s a good thing.”

She scrutinized me for a beat. “I already told you,” she answered. “I sort of fell into it. But to your point about nursing, I get that a lot, actually, although I’m not sure why. To me, hospitals…are…” She hesitated. “They’re depressing. I hate hospitals. And besides, I get squeamish at the sight of blood.”

“Another reason not to be in your line of work.”

“I think we’ve established that I’m not engaging in shoot-outs every shift.”

“But if you were, you’d be fine. Since you’re an excellent shot.”

“My nickname is Bull’s-eye,” she said with a wink. “In my own mind, anyway.”

The waitress came by with bread and rolls, apologizing that she hadn’t brought them earlier. I took a roll and buttered it, as did Natalie.

While we nibbled, the conversation continued to drift here and there, with an ease typical of people who’d known each other far longer. We talked about the bees and beehives, shared memories of our college experiences, life in a small town versus the city, the Navy, favorite rides at Disney World, a bit about my parents and my grandfather. I even touched on my grandfather’s curious journey to Easley and his final words to me.

When the waitress brought our food, it was as delicious as Natalie had promised. Out of town or not, it was a place where I’d gladly eat again. Especially with Natalie.

Though our easy rapport continued throughout dinner, it never crossed into the territory of flirting—whether she felt any real romantic interest in me was hard to tell. That she was enjoying dinner and my company, I had no doubt. As to whether she ever wanted to have dinner again, I honestly had no idea.

And yet, I couldn’t recall the last time I’d had such a pleasurable evening. It wasn’t just because she’d said the right things when I’d told her about my parents, or that she’d shared with me her own loss from childhood. Instead, I realized that I admired the value she placed on certain things—family, education, friendship, and kindness, among other things—and it was clear that she struggled with some of the things she saw regularly on her job—addiction, domestic violence, bar fights. She confessed that those things sometimes left her feeling agitated and unable to sleep after a shift had ended.

“Why don’t you quit?” I finally asked. “You have a degree and work experience. I’m sure you could find something else.”

“Maybe,” she admitted. “But for now, I think it’s best if I stick with it.”

“Because you want to make a difference?”

She touched the thin gold chain at her neck. “Sure,” she finally said, “let’s go with that.”

Neither one of us was in the mood for dessert, but we agreed on coffee. A little caffeine would help with the drive back to New Bern. As she stirred her cup, I realized that aside from work and family, she’d told me little about herself since she’d arrived in New Bern a few years back. In fact, she’d said barely anything about her life in New Bern at all.

Maybe to her it wasn’t all that interesting. But as I turned these facts over in my mind, Natalie stared out the window. Because of the interior lights of the restaurant, I was treated to her profile as it was reflected back in the glass. And in that moment, I understood that instead of focusing on the evening we’d just spent together, she had something else on her mind.