"We should go back later and thank them," I tell Jack, taking another delicious bite. "Or at least go back and eat there if nothing else. I wonder if they'd let me thank them with some pies."

I'm really only partially joking. I really do want to go back, maybe even on my own. I know southern cooking probably isn't Jack's favorite, that this is really for my benefit because it's my birthday. I won't make him sit through more of it without a good reason.

I hesitate then, licking my lips thoughtfully before I ask, "Does this count as a date?"