He listened while I described the boy who used to request books about bridges and had grown up to build them.

He told me about traveling through the upper Midwest, a winter spent farther west, and a disappointing meal in Spain.

His stories had enough detail to be interesting and not quite enough to be pinned down.

“Do you have family here in Oak Creek?” he asked.

“A daughter and a son.

They both live nearby.

They’re very busy.”

“Family can be complicated,” he said.