His mouth twitched with humor. He checked his mirror and pulled onto the street. "I meant before you got in the car with no gas," he said, his voice quieter in the confines of the van. As he signaled and turned, his phone toppled in the center console. A leather cord swung from the rearview mirror, its charms clacking together, among them a Saint Christopher medallion and a guitar pick. "You can tell me to mind my business. I'll only be a little hurt."

He made eye contact for a moment.