Chris handed over the first dripping plate and said, “So, you know about me, why don’t you tell me about you? What are you doing up here—besides surfing the flood waters?”
Stephen’s hands stilled. Admitting that he’d been hiding out from a bad breakup sounded too lame. So he settled for an evasion. “I just needed a change. I’m staying at my friend’s cabin for a week. Karen Friedrich. Do you know her?”
“Not well, but we’ve met a few times during the summers. Her cabin’s a long way upstream—you took quite a ride to get here. And, sorry, but you’re going to have to stay here tonight. Karen’s place is on the other side of the river, and the bridges are closed. They should be open tomorrow, though. I’ll drive you back up then.”
Stephen brightened. More time to spend with Chris suited him just fine.
Chris tossed the sponge into the sink and stretched his neck in a circle. “Damn, I’m tired.” He pulled off his sweatshirt and stretched his arms over his head until his vertebrae popped.