“So you’re a black sheep, too?” Bree swallowed her mouthful of noodles and took a sip of soda before she could answer him. “Oh, yeah. I was supposed to marry Eliot. My high school boyfriend. It was a thing. Big. Tons of teeth gnashing and hand wringing. Comfort food played a big role. In particular, fried chicken.” At the mention, they both ate for a bit in silence, which gave her time to go over what Charlie had told her about his struggles with his family. How was it possible for them not to be proud of his accomplishments? Maybe they were proud, but the family was crappy at communication. Rebecca had said that was an issue between her and her folks, and Charlie’s parents were cut from the same cloth. But then again, Charlie was driven. He put the implementation of his goals above everything else. As did Bree. “You know what I can’t figure?” she asked. “What’s that?” “How come you’re nice.” “Me? Nice?” “Very much so. I expected you to be on the conceited side of horrible.
