If you’d asked me beforehand what kind of lunch you have when you’re turning eighteen, and you’re about to receive potentially life altering secrets from an immortal friend of your grandfather, I wouldn’t have had the slightest clue.
As it turned out, the answer was pizza.
After months of eating undelivered “mistake” pizza from Travis’ and Haley’s family’s restaurants, I shouldn’t have wanted any. Fortunately, Lee let us choose the toppings. It was a small thing, but it made all the difference. It’s nice to have a little control over your life.
We ate it at a picnic table in Veterans Memorial Park right next to the beach. Continue reading Turning Eighteen: Part 2