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the door for a sob story. What gave with him, anyway? He rarely spoke rashly, but twice in a row? He looked over at her. “Sorry. That was dumb.”
    “I didn’t think actuaries were ever dumb.”
    “We aren’t. I was trying to be tactful in my apology.”
    She crossed her arms. “You want to hear the truth?”
    “About what?”
    “About actuaries.”
    “I’ve heard it all, but go ahead.”
    “People in Marketing, Accounting, IT, Provider Reimbursement, Claims, Underwriting, Human Resources—”
    “I get it. The whole company.”
    She held up her finger. “No, not in Maintenance. But anyway, I’ve heard many people say actuaries are arrogant, negative know-it-alls, and weird.”
    He arched his eyebrow toward her. “And what do you think?”
    “I think I’d better be tactful too, since your family populates half the actuarial profession. But I will admit you aren’t as weird as some I’ve worked with.”
    So, he was weird. Just less than most of his fellow actuaries. “How about a pit stop?”
    “Did I go too far?”
    “No, we have, and I need a pit stop.”
    “Good.” The dash lights revealed her smile. “We can pick up where we left off after our break.”
    Great. He’d choose actuary bashing over Elton John every time.
     
    ****
     
    Cisney left Nick inside the gas station paying for his drink and sipped her tangy diet orange soda on the way back to the car. His keys dangled from her fingers.
    She unlocked the car and slid inside, removed her handbag from her shoulder, and placed it on the floor. Her yellow sticky to call Angela was missing from its strap. The fugitive note probably littered her path somewhere between the slimy restroom and the car. She moved her pearl solitaire to her left ring finger. The gold band against her skin cried, “Alert. Foreign object.” That should remind her to call Angela.
    As Nick pulled back onto the road, Cisney checked his GPS. Two hours and twenty minutes to go. Their conversation before stopping had lasted about two minutes. Far from earning a notch on her challenge belt, but two minutes without morose thoughts were still worth it. Hopefully, they could resume their bantering.
    By now, Jason probably had arrived in Charlottesville with his new girlfriend. How were his parents receiving her? Would they privately ask Jason about his ex? In their six-month relationship, Cisney had grown fond of his dad. His dad came across a notch gentler than Jason and two notches milder than Daddy.
    Her stomach tightened. Every hour brought her closer to a Thanksgiving call with Daddy. Why couldn’t she enter the Witness Protection Program just for the holiday to avoid the phone call with Daddy? What was so great about Jason that Daddy latched on to him for her future spouse, anyway? Heaps. Daddy admired Jason’s go-getting attitude. Relished their one-up-man-ships. Thirsted for their dog-eat-dog debates. How was she going to find another Jason?
    Nick fiddled with the zoom feature on the GPS. He had no idea how much she needed him right now to talk to her. Maybe the stop had revitalized him, and she could push him into a dialog lasting longer than two minutes.
    She took a cleansing breath and mentally recorded the time on the GPS. “Tell me something about yourself.”
    He canceled the zoom and looked at her. “The torture begins.”
    She smiled and nodded. She felt better already. “Yes.”
    “My mother’s name is Ellen, and my dad’s is Roger.”
    “Should I call them Mr. and Mrs. LeCrone?”
    “Mom would be disappointed.”
    “Then, Ellen and Roger it is.”
    “Mom would be disappointed.”
    “Why?” Wouldn’t calling them Mom and Dad be a little presumptuous?
    “Mom goes by Ellie.”
    “Hey! Who’s torturing who?”
    He chuckled and shrugged. A dimple formed on his cheek when he laughed.
    She liked that. Wanted to make it appear again. “Go on.”
    “My sister’s name is Nancy. She’s an elementary school teacher.”
    “Nick and Nancy. Cute. I’m