6
EMORY
I let Gray decide where to eat for lunch. He took me to a place on the water near Annapolis for steamed crabs, a Maryland summer specialty. We ate outside on a covered patio at a picnic table covered in newspaper. A tin bucket sat between us for empty crab shells and we used wooden mallets to crack open the legs. It was a really smart choice on Gray’s part. It was slow picking the meat out of a crab, so we were able to linger and talk. Our hands were busy the entire time, which helped to avoid awkward moments. It was also a messy task, and it was hard to take anything too seriously when you were swinging a wooden mallet with crab seasoning all over your hands.
It was after three when Gray pulled his car into an empty spot just down the street from my house.
“I had a really good
