and some odd months. Curses last seven years, right?”
“What?”
“Like if a black cat crosses your path or you break a mirror, it’s seven years, right?”
I shake my head. “I have no idea.”
“How are you going to be a technomathematician without knowing the hard facts on curses?”
I grab some napkins, plates, and forks. “I’m really a spy. I know nothing about statistics, or math, or science. My true specialty is black-ops and how to kill people using only a paperclip and a pair of socks.”
My fake Russian accent has Arlo’s single dimple appearing. “I had no idea you were in on this operation,” he says, using an accent that sounds more German than Russian.
“We can’t let anyone know about our mission, this one or the one for our country.” I set a place setting in front of him and another across from him. “But first, we should eat, it might be our last chance.”
Arlo nods. “Yes. That’s a very sound idea.”
I burst out laughing as his accent changes again, his syllables all dragged out and heavily pronouncing the vowels. “Was that your attempt to sound Southern?” I ask.
“Attempt? I nailed it.”
I shake my head as I laugh so hard tears form. “That is not how I sound.”
“No, your accent is thicker.”
“People in Texas don’t even think I have an accent anymore.”
“Well, they’re crazy.”
His words shouldn’t bring comfort to me, yet they do. Since moving to Washington, I’ve remained in a state of vacation, mentally speaking, compartmentalizing these years of my life, and never taking the time to find a regular grocery store or pizza place, things people would normally do when they relocate. I still don’t know how to get around to most places and am entirely reliant on my GPS to provide directions when I go anywhere except for school and work. Aside from Rose, I barely even hang out with many other people, always chalking it up to the thought that I won’t be here long. Matt’s words last week, telling me I sounded like a Yankee, caused my reality to come a bit more into focus, but Arlo’s words feel like an assurance.
“You can take the girl out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the girl,” I tell him, purposely sliding into a thick Southern accent. “Feel welcome to try anything. We always do family-style when we order, and Rose and I were feeling especially indecisive when we ordered. It all sounded good.”
“And you don’t eat leftovers?”
I shake my head. “Not if I can help it.”
“You’re missing out. Most food is better leftover. Especially Indian food.”
We fill our plates at a leisurely pace, smelling and discussing the different dishes as I try to recall their names, and Arlo offers several guesses, using a myriad of accents.
“This is so much better than Dick’s,” he says.
I stare at him, waiting for more information, but rather than explain, he forks a mouthful and hums his approval.
“Dick’s?” I ask.
He wipes his mouth with the napkin as he nods. “You know, the hamburger place.”
“There’s a hamburger place named Dick’s?”
“You’ve lived here how long and haven’t heard of Dick’s?”
“Almost four years.”
“How is this even possible? Seattle would throw you out if they knew.”
“Is it really called Dick’s?”
He nods. “And it’s a rite of passage here. How has Rose earned best friend status when she hasn’t taken you to Dick’s?”
“I don’t know … maybe she’s earned best friend status because of it.”
He laughs again, the sound drawing my lips upward without obligation or reason, aside from it’s easy and comfortable to be around him.
“When did you hurt your knee?”
“This past Saturday marked three weeks since my surgery, but I hurt it a week earlier.”
“Have they told you when you’ll be able to put weight on it?”
“I go in this week to do a follow-up and find out if it’s ready.”
I nod. “And it was a full reconstruction?”
Arlo finishes chewing another bite. “Yup. They said it’s a whole hell of a lot easier to go through now than it was ten years ago.”
“My mom had her ACL replaced,” I tell him. “She had a scar that ran from the top of her knee all the way down to the top of her shin. I had no idea until I started working at the physical therapy place that they didn’t still do it like that.”
“Was she laid up a long time?”
“Yeah, but it sounds like the entire process has changed. They brought this big machine to the house that bent her knee,