"Hey," I answered on the first ring.

"Hey, I'm here. I should be to you in about twenty minutes," Billy's voice crackled with electricity.

"Great, I hope the flight wasn't terrible because my dad is already heading into the restaurant," I smiled, knowing he would be pleased.

"No turning back now," he let out a gruff laugh.

"Nope," I agreed. "I'll meet you out front."

"Hey, woah..." Billy stopped me from hanging up.

"What?"

"I love you, Lil," he shot at me.

I let a breath laugh escape me. "I love you too, Billy."

I took a last look in the mirror and immediately felt silly. Billy had seen me in all states of being; overtired, hungover, even hugging a toilet during a nasty bout of food poisoning. Still, I tapped fresh lip gloss on my lips and bounded downstairs like a child.

I shielded the sun with my hand as I inspected each passing cab until one finally pulled up before me.

"Thanks, man. I don't need any change," Billy nodded before pulling himself out of the car. "There's my girl," he smiled as he dipped at the knees and wrapped his arms around me.

"Hey, Billy." I breathed him in as he clutched me.

"You look good." He inspected me closer. "Did you cut your hair?"

"Yeah, just a trim." I tousled my ponytail as I spoke. It surprised me that he noticed.

"Still smells like strawberries," he smiled.

"Ready?" I asked as I stretched my hand out to him.

"Yeah, let me just run up and drop my bag off."

"Oh, right." I turned to lead him upstairs.

"Hey," he paused me with a hand on my shoulder. "I can just run up. Give me your keys."

"Okay," I smiled as I handed him my keys.

"Take these," he added as he handed me his sunglasses.

"Thanks." I gave him a sheepish smile as I slid on his Wayfarers.

He quickly departed, and even though I knew he'd be back in moments, loneliness crept into my chest as the apartment building door clicked behind him. I glanced up and down the familiar street. People meandering in and out of shops and restaurants. My eyes bounced between clutched hands. I had never noticed how many couples surrounded me all the time.

"Hey." Billy's hand landed on my back as he shattered my thoughts. "I borrowed your sunglasses," he added as he tapped my Wayfarers that now hid his eyes.

"They suit you," I teased.

"Mmhmm, I thought they would. Where to navigator?" He extended a hand to me.

"My dad's meeting us at King's. They have a super cool back patio with a ton of nooks."

"You looking to hide me away?" An eyebrow lifted above his sunglasses.

"Yeah, actually; that's exactly what I'm trying to do," I shot back.

"I'm not recognizable, Lil. It's not like I'm Paul McCartney," he sighed.

"Yet." I was only half-teasing. "Besides, my dad likes it there too."

We walked in silence the few blocks to Kings, but Billy let me drop his hand so I could wrap myself around his arm, pulling me closer to him. He paused as we neared the restaurant.

"Nervous?" I asked as I looked up at him.

"No. I oddly feel like I already know him," Billy admitted.

"Ready, then?" I prodded.

"Not just yet." His gaze coursed over me. "I missed you, Lil. Days are longer when you aren't with me." His hands flowed up and down my arms.

"I missed you too," I smiled.

His face dipped to mine as our lips mingled for a long kiss. I leaned heavily into him as he braced me with his strong hands. When he pulled away, he let his forehead fall to mine.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," I smiled.

"Let's go meet the legend." He dropped his hands from my arms, but caught hand in his before turning to the door.

"Hello," Billy's voice came like the performer as the host looked up at him. "We're meeting a gentleman here."

"Yes, we seated someone waiting for two more," she smiled up at him.

"Perhaps that's him," he smiled.

She gave him a nod. As she held the door to the patio open, her eyes dipped to our clutched hands, and for a moment, she failed to mask her disappointment. The moment plunged me into utter self-doubt. She didn't recognize Billy. He was just a stranger. I glanced at him; his erratic hair and pale skin, his moon face, and muddy eyes. Despite his homeliness, I knew his allure; an openness and mischievousness attracted me to him, but this felt different. He turned on a distinct charm for this girl; he turned on the showman. Panic erupted in me; was meeting my dad going to be a performance?

"Here we are," the girl announced as we approached a table.

"Hey, Dad," I breathed out when I saw him, like he was a lifesaver bobbing in the ocean.

"Thank you," Billy directed at the host as a manner of dismissing her.

"Hey, Lil," my dad greeted me as he stood. "You must be Billy," he added as he stuck a hand out to him.

"Yes, sir," Billy's face dipped as he greeted my dad, and his shoulders rounded in deferment. He was my Billy, quiet and shy. Relief filled me.

"Please, call me Roger," my dad corrected.

"Yes, sir." Billy let out a wince at his immediate failure, making my dad and I laugh.

"Sit," my dad directed. "So," he began again as we settled into the booth. "How was the first week of classes, Lil?"

"Good. I may like my Global History course the best. I'll bring the reading list to Sunday dinner next week," I offered, knowing my dad would be interested. I looked up at Billy's face, "I'll show it to you tonight."

"Global History, so general. I'm intrigued. Have you started any of the reading yet?" My dad pressed.

"No, I'm wrapping up my summer books. I'm almost done with a book on the T.W. Lawson," I explained.

"Ah, you and your maritime disasters," my dad smirked.

"T.W. Lawson?" Billy asked. "Is that a person or a ship?"

"Both," my dad and I answered in unison.

"I didn't realize it was the first documented oil spill when I started reading about it," I noted to my dad.

"How did you land on this topic?" My dad pressed.

"Oh," I blushed.

"Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo?" My dad knowingly laughed.

"Yeah. I was looking into more on Ted Lawson, and Tom Lawson came up. Tom W. Lawson was from Boston, which was geographically intriguing, and so here we are," I admitted.

"Happy mistake," my dad smiled.

"So, Billy, tell me about yourself." My dad directed his attention to Billy.

"Well, currently I'm confused," Billy let a rolling laugh fall from his mouth as he nervously tugged at his hair.

I let my hand slip to Billy's knee and gave him a reassuring squeeze.

"Confused?" My dad prodded.

"How did you get from a movie to an oil spill in thirty seconds?" Billy looked between my dad and me.

"Sorry," I giggled. "We tend to do that. The movie is also a book written by Ted Lawson. I was looking for more info on him aside from the Doolittle Raid and stumbled upon Tom W. Lawson, who funded his namesake schooner. It wrecked in the English Channel carrying oil."

"It also was the only seven-mast schooner, if I recall correctly," my dad added.

"I think that's correct; at least that's the claim I've heard repeated," I smiled.

"This is fascinating," Billy sat back as he continued to look between us.

"Are you interested in maritime history?" My dad smiled, pleased at his interest.

"Sure, but I meant you two are fascinating. Do you always do this?" Billy asked.

"Do what?" My brow furrowed.

"No," my dad answered. "Sometimes we disagree," he noted with a chuckle.

"Do what?" I demanded again.

"Not everyone reads as much non-fiction as you and me," my dad smiled.

"It makes other conversations I've witnessed boring. It makes me boring," Billy lamented.

"It was one conversation on a boat. They aren't all that illustrious. Last Sunday, we had an hour-long conversation on the location of Valley's Chinese Restaurant," I offered.

"Turns out we were both wrong; it shut down last spring," my dad added.

"Oh, no. Where will I get egg rolls?" I sighed.

"Anyway, Billy, you dodged my question. Tell me about you," my dad prodded again.

"Well, I grew up in Duluth. My mom was a secretary at the church, and my dad was a janitor at a mill," Billy began.

My dad nodded as he digested the information. "Are they both retired?"

"My mom is. My dad passed a few years back."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. How is your mother?"

"She's better now. It was hard for a while, but she's got her spark back. Thank you for asking." Billy's head slightly nodded.

"Well, now that I know where you come from, how about you tell me about where you are?" My dad smiled.

"Of course. I was working as a mechanic, but I've been able to make a living playing music for the past few years. That's what brought me here, led me to Lil." Billy's eyes fell on me as he said my name. I gave him a reassuring smile back. His eyes flickered back to my dad. "And the last book I read was on taxidermy," he added.

"Taxidermy, fascinating. You like to work with your hands?" My dad was pleased with the revelation.

"I do. And I like to do things for myself. We didn't have a lot growing up, so we always did what we could for ourselves; fixing the cars and appliances, making presents instead of buying them, that sort of thing. I didn't know other families weren't like that until I was a teen. I guess it stuck."

"It's admirable," my dad nodded. "Now, tell me about this taxidermy book. How did you land on it?" My dad's eyes gleamed with interest.

"Can we not talk about taxidermy over food?" I requested, as my stomach churned.

"It's really not as gross as it sounds," Billy offered.

"And it was substantial progress for science. As more and more animals were discovered, they could be preserved for others to see," my dad added.

"It's still dead animals," I groaned.

Despite my protests, all conversations seemed to meander back to taxidermy that day. As much as the topic revolted me, it was nice to see the easy connection my dad and Billy shared.

"That was fantastic," Billy said as we walked back to my place. "I think your dad is my favorite person. Do you think he liked me?"

"Yes, I think he liked you. If he didn't, the conversation would have been very stifling," I smiled.

"It's curious, though; he asked very little about my music." Billy's eyebrows furrowed as he thought about it.

"Mmhmm, I think he wanted to know you, not your music," I offered.

"You Turncott's are special people," he smiled.