Page 65 of Snapshot

“He’s become quite domestic since he’s moved out here,” Dottie says, taking a small sip of her red wine.

“Dex doesn’t do dishes at home?”

Dottie points to Dex’s giant aquarium in front of us. “This kind of thing usually ate up most of his chore time.”

The first time I saw this tank was the night I met Dex. I didn’t even realize it was supposed to be a giant aquarium. I thought it was art—some sort of glass wall. But after a few weeks, Dex’s tank pieces came in. He had the filters, pumps, andlights meticulously installed. Once his masterpiece was set up, he never threw a rowdy party like that again.

“There’s another one in the bedroom,” I say. “He let me feed the Damselfish up there once. They are prissy little things. They eat live mealworms for clean protein and get daily vitamins through an eyedropper. They are healthier than I am.” I laugh thinking about the rundown Dex gave me with their feeding schedule and how to gauge their health by watching their swim patterns.

“Damselfish,” Dottie muses.

“Is that the big, flat black one?”

“Oh, no, no. That’s his Black Tang, Zeus. He’s very fond of that one. The way he sweettalks Zeus is going to cause that poor fish lots of problems. Everyone is going to gang up on Zeus out of jealousy. The tank upstairs is a little angsty. I keep telling him he should move Zeus down here, but for some reason, he keeps all the smaller fish down here. To be honest, they are less impressive.”

“See that little red one?” Dottie says, pointing to the bright red fish that seems to be staring right back at us.

“The Cherry Barb?”

Dottie smiles. “Yes. It’s his favorite. He puts one in every single tank.”

“Really?” I ask, squinting at the fish. It’s not that they aren’t cute. But they aren’t that impressive in comparison to their tankmates or the exotic beauties upstairs.

“It was the first fish his mother bought him. They are small and easy-going enough for a five-year-old to care for.”

“And yet I’ve still managed to lose so many,” Dex says, startling me. I didn’t notice him approach. He sets a tray of drinks down. Coffee for me and Dottie, and a glass full of amber liquid for him. He settles on the couch next to me and hands me a cup of coffee. “Lots of cream and sugar for you.” After grabbinghis glass, he slides the tray closer to Dottie. “Black for you, Grandma. Careful, the mug is hot.”

“Thank you, honey,” she says, sitting back and letting the burning cup cool.

I take a small sip and give Dex an appreciative smile. “It’s perfect.” He gives me a quick flash of a smile, but it’s gone so fast, it seems something’s bothering him. “I take it your mom likes aquariums, too?”

“She did.” His response is flat and he doesn’t elaborate. It’s apparent from the anguish on his face that this is a tough topic for Dex.

“Dex’s mom, my daughter Melody, passed away when she was twenty-nine,” Dottie clarifies.

“I’m so sorry,” I say, unable to find bigger, better words to convey my feelings.

“Thank you. It happened a long time ago,” Dottie assures me. She points to the tank at the little red fish. “But we try to keep parts of her close.”

“Len, I’ve been wondering all night…what’s in that old shoebox?” Dex looks over his shoulder at the kitchen island, unsubtly changing the conversation. “Because I’m half worried you bought me a hamster or something.”

“Oh! Geez, I almost forgot.” He’s blocking me into the sectional, so I pat his knee. “Would you grab it for me?”

He’s on his feet immediately, crossing the living room to fetch the box. He shakes it aggressively, then holds it up to his ear.

“Dude! Careful,” I squall. “What if it was a hamster?”

He laughs. “Sounds like paper,” Dex says as he hands the box over.

Setting it on the table, I open the lid so it’s facing Dottie. “Dex told me you and Jacob were friends a long time ago. After he passed, I saved some of this stuff from the dive shop. Mostlyjust pictures and notes he’d jot down. I thought maybe you’d like a little insight into his later life. Seemed like you two were close once if you felt compelled to buy his dive shop?”

“Thank you, Lennox. This is…” Dottie trails off as she slides the box into her lap. She handles it so delicately, you’d think it was a baby. Holding up the folded stack of papers on top, she murmurs, “This says Business Plan. Was this an idea of Jacob’s?”

“Oh, that’s my college admissions essay. Jacob helped me.” I slide my coffee cup aside and scoot closer to Dottie. “For my college application to UNLV, Jacob had this idea to write out a legitimate business plan instead of a typical admission essay. Just to stand out. So, I made all these big pretend plans for the dive shop like I was actually planning a future for Discover Dives. He wrote a statement as the owner claiming he was going to implement my plan and had intended to give me a percentage of the profits. That little stunt got me into business school and a partial academic scholarship. Jacob was so proud of me that he kept a copy of the plan.”

Dottie flips through the pages, reading line by line. “You and Jacob did all this together?”

“It was just a cute bonding thing.”Cute?Why did I say that? I hate that term so much. Cute is for puppies and babies, and it always feels aggressively condescending when people use it against me. Although, from what I understand Dottie runs a pretty big company. This might indeed seemcuteto her.

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