She spoke first, whispered with her head down. Talking about how she was sorry it didn’t all work out. Just one giant mess, she said. One of those life lessons, I suppose.

It got me thinking, he said. These whole nine years got me wondering. He sipped on coffee. I mean, we fought a lot, he told her. And I often wondered what we were fighting for. They both laughed. I mean. You wanted things your way, and I wished for arguments to go my way. He lit a cigarette and started tapping his fingers on the metal table. Always seemed you got your way, he said. But that’s just self-pity now, isn’t it?

No. She sat down on a folding chair. It’s not. I can be pretty selfish at times, she told him. She brushed back her blonde hair with both hands. Looked down again. Whispered, I can be pretty spoiled, I suppose. We just want different things. We see life differently.

Like that Dave Mason song, he said.

What?

There ain’t no bad guy. There ain’t no good guy. There’s only you and me, and we just disagree, he sang.

That’s beautiful. She looked up at her old man. Really pretty.

That’s Dave Mason.

I’ve never heard that before.

Too young, he said. She nodded. I gotta be going. You take care of yourself, he hugged her.

What’s that guy’s name again?

Dave Mason. Look him up on the jukebox next time you’re out drinking. Should be played in every bar across America. They laughed. Bye now.