He wondered if she was thinking the same thing and remembering the nightmare of watching Hoby’s truck come up out of the water. He felt like cursing that whole day. Why had he talked about it being their first date? Now she would forever tie negative memories of Hoby’s death—or supposed death—to happy memories of their own time together. He wanted to give her another outing to remember. Something they could call their own. He knew he ought to wait and give her more time to grieve, but he had waited a lifetime already, and now that he had experienced a few happy moments with Lynda, he couldn’t bear to do without her much longer. He coughed. “Seeing as how our first date ended up all strange-like, I decided we need a new first date.” She shifted, and Clyde worried that he had made her uncomfortable. “Thanks for dinner,” she said. “It was nice.” “I’m not talking about dinner, Lyn.
