Chapter 6: Vacillation
Alan was whistling as he came into the kitchen. Dusty, who had been sitting patiently at George’s side hoping for a surreptitiously dropped tidbit of food, trotted over to him, his stump of a tail wagging vigorously.
“Good morning,” Alan said, squatting to give the dog a pat.
“Well, well, someone’s in a real good mood this morning,” his dad said. “What happened? You get lucky last night?”
“George Daniels! How you talk!” Alan’s mother said sternly, turning from the stove and walking to the table with a skillet of freshly scrambled eggs. “You know Alan isn’t that kind of boy. We raised him better. Alan, dear, sit down and eat these while they’re hot.”
“Martha,” his dad retorted. “Alan isn’t a boy anymore. He’s a man. And getting some—”
“George!” she said with a
