Page 23 of Keystrokes and Kittens

Slowly, Sam nodded. “I decided I needed to take better care of myself. Even if Quinta’s on her own, she’s still my responsibility. They say you never really stop being a parent. That you always worry. Well, they—whoever they are—aren’t wrong. Maybe, I don’t know, when she finishes university and lands a good job? Finds a life partner? If that’s what she wants…” He sighed. “I’ve done my best, but that never feels good enough.”

I toyed with my fork. “Have you spoken to her?”

“Yesterday after work. I was driving home when her call came through my speakers. I didn’t want to miss the call, so I pulled over and talked to her.”

Most drivers I knew would’ve likely kept on driving. Hell, I would’ve kept going. “And?”

“Something about another week or so. Something about labs. Truthfully, I don’t understand. But then I didn’t go to college.”

He’d mentioned this before. “Would you want to? Now that Quinta’s settled?”

He blinked. “I have the store to run.” He waved me off. “I did some courses through an online community college. Business stuff. And that’s helped me immensely in managing the store. But beyond that? I can’t even fathom.”

“Okay. But if you could go to college—and study anything you want—what would it be?”

His stillness struck me as he sat without moving.

Is he thinking about it? Or does he already know, and he’s worried I might judge him.Which, of course, I never would.

Finally, he shrugged. “I guess something to do with business. I’ve proven I’m pretty good at that.”

“Sure…but what’s your passion? If you could immerse yourself in anything, what would it be?”

He bit his lower lip—something I’d never witnessed him doing before.

Have I pushed him too far? What’s he thinking?

After what felt like a million years, he sighed. “History. Art history in particular.” He still didn’t meet my gaze.

I was uncertain whether I should speak up.

Then he let out a breath. “I love watching documentaries. You know, about whether or not a painting is real or fake. Or about the histories of a certain work. Maybe about an artist. I’d love to go to San Francisco or Los Angeles. Oh, or New York, London, and Paris. Just to go and immerse myself in the galleries. To seethe masterpieces up close. I’ve bought dozens of used art history books over the years—my one real treat to myself—and I love them so freaking much.” Finally, he met my gaze. “I’m being silly.”

My eyebrows shot up. “How so? That kind of passion? I love it. Not everyone knows what they want with such zeal. I mean, I fell into programming quite by accident. I went to Cal Tech for pure mathematics. I took a programming course to fill my schedule. In the process, I discovered that I didn’t want to do research or teach math for the rest of my life, but put me in front of a computer and I was a happy man. The internet was growing by leaps and bounds back then. I didn’t start in cybersecurity, but I fell into that role as well. As much as I love my job—and my company—it’s not a grand passion.”

He offered a small smile. “What is your grand passion? You said traveling, right?”

I nodded. “I have the money. But not the time. Except, if Lolita managing things works out, I might be able to take a real vacation. Noah said he’d board Tibby—or recommend someone who could. You know what would be cool? If you came with me. And we mixed adventure with museums and art galleries. You could teach me everything you know.” A bubble of excitement rose within me.

Sam’s eyes widened. “Uh, Soren?”

Again, I bobbed my head.

“I barely get one day off a week. I pretty much haven’t taken a vacation in years. We’re allowed to receive a payment in lieu of vacation, and I put that payment aside every year for Quinta’s college fund. She still needs scholarships, but she’s not going to have nearly as much debt as she might otherwise. Helps, of course, that she’s going to a state school.” He rubbed his forehead. “Maybe—” He swallowed. “Maybe when I retire.”

Which might be thirty or forty years from now. My heart ached. Honestly, the idea had been farfetched at best—but it’d also felt right. I would love to travel with a companion. Sam would be the perfect choice. “Something to consider in the future.”

He sighed. “Mandy’s trained as an assistant manager. When she’s back from maternity leave, maybe I can take a couple of days and go down to Los Angeles.”

I wanted to suggest we go together, but that seemed to be too much for him to handle at the moment. Plus, he might have cats to care for.

His alarm went off.

He sighed yet again. A heavy, weary sigh.

“Let me—”

“Nope. You made dinner. You’ve done more than half the feedings.” He pushed himself to his feet.