15 Chapter 15

“No probate,” he said. “It’s all mine. I have to thank Dad for that.”

“My parents did that, too, everything in trust.” Then, to change the subject, I asked if he was hungry.

“I guess so.”

I took him to Jack’s, a restaurant I’d discovered several years before on a trip home. In nearby Pleasant Hill, it had a no-fail menu, but as I sat across from Glenn, I saw him work a frown. “Nothing you like?” I asked.

He set down his menu. “I’m out of practice, Noah. At everything.”

“Take your time.”

He snorted a laugh. “All the time in the world, right?”

I had no idea what he was getting at, so I just shrugged.

When the waiter arrived, Glenn ordered a large breakfast. He wasn’tthatout of practice. I had a favored Tuscan sandwich, wicked grilled veggies on a sourdough bun. Once the waiter departed, I gave it a minute, sipped my water, then waded in again.

“So what do you think about staying with me?”

“Define ‘staying.’”