I watched him. "Are you going to moan after each bite?" I hoped not, because I'd successfully suppressed flutterings and achings thus far. His moaning wasn't helping.
"Maybe," he spoke around a mouthful, chewed, and then swallowed. "Why? Do you have a moaning allergy? Does it bother you?"
"A little," I hedged, because bother was one word for it, especially when paired with hot.
"It's your fault this tastes so good. Where did you learn to cook?"
"My mom." I took my first bite, enjoying the bursts of the sweet, smooth custard contrasted by the bittersweet velvetiness of the dark chocolate.
"What's she like?"
"She's the best. My mother stayed home with us kids-my brother and me-and also helped my dad's business by doing the books. Both of my parents cook, though. My dad focuses on the savory, and my mom prefers the sweet."
"That sounds like an efficient delineation of tasks."
"It is. They've been married for forty-five years, had children late in life."
"What does your dad do?"
"My father used to be a general contractor, but he retired fifteen years ago."
"He builds things," Matt simplified.
"Yes. He'd consider you a wizard."
"Really? A wizard?" Matt looked pleased by the label.
"My dad never had a use for computers, so anything with a screen feels like magic to him. I help them with all their technology purchases. But, give the man wood, a saw, and a hammer and he'd build you a mansion."
"He sounds great, too."
Was that wistfulness I detected in his tone?
"They are great. I grew up with a stable childhood in every way that matters. They both showed up to be proud for all my major life events: school plays, lacrosse games, graduations. I discovered, when I became an adult, that sometimes we lived paycheck to paycheck, but growing up I had no idea. Sure, we never had the latest and greatest gadgets or clothes, but we didn't need it. We had each other. I never felt like I was missing out."
Matt's smile was soft, but also struck me as sad.
"How about your parents?" I nudged his knee. "What were they like?"
"Do you have any complaints about your childhood?
I blinked at his question, not as surprised by it as I would have been just a few days ago. I was beginning to understand this was a part of his personality: ready honesty and curiosity.
"None," I said, but then a thought surfaced, and I amended my original answer. "Actually, just one. I grew up not knowing or understanding any perspective other than my own."
"Meaning?"
"I grew up in a small town, and we never traveled-which was fine, we didn't need to travel-but neither of my parents were big readers. We lived simply, with our small cares. They didn't see the need to expose us to the big wide world, not even the beauty of it."
"Is that why you became a journalist?"
"Maybe." I considered this theory as a possibility, setting my pie on the ottoman next to my cell phone. The compact piece of furniture also served as storage and a coffee table.
I'd always been open to new experiences that fed my job as a journalist, but the same could not be said about my personal life, especially recently. I might go to a professional cuddler for a story, but I never would have gone out of a curiosity or willingness to try something new for myself.
"Tell me something surprising." Matt took another bite of his pie, then frowned at the plate as though displeased with the small amount remaining.
"What?"
"Something I would never guess about you."
"Um, let's see. I've passed the bar in two states."
His eyebrows jumped. "You went to law school?"
"No. I didn't. It was for an article I wrote, when I first started out, on what it's like to take the bar, how to prepare for it, the time involved, the stress, the relevancy to practice. I thought, if I was going to write about it, I should take it."
"Wow. And you passed?"
"Yes, barely. There's only a few states that will let you take it without going to law school, but first you have to study under a judge. The first time I took it, in Wyoming, I studied for two years, non-stop. It was all I did, thought about, lived, breathed. I worked for a judge. I dated lawyers. Complete submersion."
"Shit."
"Yeah. I might've been a little overzealous. But then, I was fresh out of college and wanted to experience life."
"Why go to such lengths?"
"Because . . ." I gathered a deep breath, trying to figure out how to explain my passion without sounding unhinged. "I love knowing something from the inside out, and then sharing that knowledge with the world. The law is so fascinating, changeable, and open to interpretation, based on each individual interpreter's life experience. Stories are that way, too. How people read and react to news. Providing insight into different ways of thinking, different walks of life, making the world think about an old issue from a different perspective, I love it. I feel so lucky that I get to be the conduit through which others' stories are told."