We pass a string of familiar landmarks: the restaurant where Jeffrey and I had our first date; Paradise Cove, where I had lunch with my father the last time he visited; Trancas Market, where in my twenties I used to buy bottled water and snacks before hitting a Malibu beach. I see a younger version of myself at each and it’s all I can do not to wave; I wonder what my younger selves would think of me now, if they would recognize me or even care to wave back.
