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    He was savoring the delicately flavored fricassee when Kate turned to him. “Tell us a little bit about yourself, TJ. What do you do when you’re not riding your motorcycle?”
    The last thing TJ wanted was to talk about himself. That was one of the reasons he’d avoided campgrounds for the last year. Folks in campgrounds were friendly, their questions as well-meaning as Kate’s. There had been a time when TJ had enjoyed that friendliness, when he’d gone out of his way to encourage it, but not now. Still, he had to give Kate an answer. He doubted she’d believe the truth, that the bike had been his life for a year.
    TJ had broken the lease on his apartment, sold his belongings, paid off his bills, bought the bike, and headed out, determined to finish Deb’s bucket list. There was no need to share that or that traveling alone had occasionally been lonely and that there were times when he wondered what he’d do next.
    He split another biscuit as he said, “I used to teach high school. History.” There. If he was lucky, that would be enough to satisfy everyone’s curiosity. He wasn’t lucky.
    â€œAnd you’re on sabbatical.” Gillian’s expression reflected surprise and something else. If he’d had to describe it, TJ would have said it was disdain, but that made no sense. Why should she care how he used to earn his living?
    â€œNot exactly, but I am taking some time off to see this country.”
    If he’d wanted to discourage conversation, TJ had failed. Interest shone from Gillian’s green eyes, erasing the fleeting moment of disdain or whatever it had been. “Have you seen a lot?”
    He nodded. “Every national park in the lower forty-eight except for Big Bend. I was on my way there when I took a detour and wound up here.” TJ slid a forkful of peas into his mouth, hoping that would end the discussion.
    While the two couples on the opposite side of the table discussed the lack of nighttime activities in Dupree, Greg leaned forward to address TJ. “I’m glad you took that detour. Your being a teacher is an answer to prayer.”
    â€œAnd how would that be? I can’t imagine that history lessons are part of the entertainment here.” He also couldn’t imagine being the answer to anyone’s prayer.
    Greg reached for the pitcher of water and refilled Kate’s glass. “You’re right about that, but the fact that you know more about teenagers than either Kate or me just might solve the problem you and I discussed.”
    TJ had to admire Greg’s tact. Instead of saying that whatever he had in mind would be a way for TJ to pay for his stay here, he simply alluded to a problem.
    â€œHow?” TJ took another bite of fricassee, hoping the answer wouldn’t destroy his appetite.
    â€œKate and I are worried about the kids living in Firefly Valley. That’s where the RVs are parked,” he explained. “There’s no TV or cell coverage there, and that’s rough for the kids, especially the teenagers who can’t drive. They’re bored.”
    â€œGreg and I’ve invited them to come here,” Kate interjected, “but no one seems interested.”
    â€œAnd you think I can help.” His day just kept getting worse. It was bad enough knowing all those RVs were so close. Now he was expected to go over there and face the memory of the summers he and Deb had spent traveling the country in their motor home. If TJ agreed to Greg’s suggestion, he’d be surrounded by kids and even more memories. Still, how could he refuse when he was here, eating Greg and Kate’s food, planning to sleep in one of their cabins?
    Before he could respond, Gillian touched his arm. “I’ll go with you.”

    Why had she said that? Gillian could have kicked herself for volunteering to have anything to do with teenagers. She knew as little about them as Kate and Greg,