This drew laughter from both Dan and Carol. Dan held out the thermal cup he had in his hand to Nick.

“Here, Hemingway, we bought you a cup of coffee for the beach.”

“God bless you, sir.” Nick took the cup in both hands, imitating a street urchin in a Dickens’ novel. “You do the Lord’s work this gray morning.”

“Notice how we’ve been talking for ten minutes, and he still hasn’t told us anything,” Dan said. “The least we could get is a straight answer to one simple question in payment for hauling that heavy coffee all this way for you.”

“I went east for research. I took pictures and notes all along the route for stops I’m using in my work-in-progress. Then, I came back. Simple as that.”

“You take pictures, of course.” Carol thought about it for a moment. “Then you’d have something to jog your memory for a particular piece in your writing.”

“Damn, you’ve dragged the secrets of bestsellers from me. Now, what will I do? You know, of course, that the Writer’s Guild will send people after me for this, don’t you?”

“We thought maybe you had a girlfriend somewhere,” Carol persisted, ignoring Nick’s humorous sidestep.

“Actually, up north, I did see a woman I’d like to know better. It was-”

“Is this another joke?” Carol cut him off.

“Give him a chance to finish a sentence, oh Grand Inquisitor.” Dan needled Carol with practiced ease.

“I’m sorry, Nick, go on.” Carol reached out a hand to touch Nick’s windbreaker while glaring at Dan.

“I’m making Pleasanton one of the main points in the story I’m doing,” Nick went on, grinning at the couples’ continuous repartee. “I stopped in for lunch at an Applebee’s up there and saw a waitress I took a real liking to. I have to do more field work in Pleasanton and I figured to haunt the Applebee’s restaurant while I’m working.”

“I don’t know that I approve of you dating a waitress,” Carol replied, stunning Dan, who gaped at her as if she had grown a third eye.