An hour and a half later, full of pancakes, we parked in front of a tidy little bungalow with a bright green door and white walls, the yard filled with flowers. “Ry, this place is gorgeous! So much better than my tiny apartment.” He shrugged. “It’s home, and I love it. You’re welcome here anytime. Come on in while I get ready.” I followed him inside and toured the house while he showered and dressed. The paintings on the wall were gorgeous landscapes. He had a huge TV and a large collection of movies. The furniture was worn in spots but well cared for. The deck in the back had a wonderful view of the city in the distance. “Like it?” I heard Ry say from right behind me, and I jumped. “Don’t do that!” I said, lightly punching him in the arm. “Yes, it’s lovely. And the smell of flowers i