“You laughed.”
“It’s not like I’ve forgotten how.”
“But it was Doris Day.”
“If you keep that up, I’ll pound you.”
Ronnie stopped teasing then, but that was how their day went, blocks of easy silence broken up by bursts of brief exchanges. No cross words were said, no reference to their troubles. They simply kept each other company, much like they had in the basement when that was all that was necessary.
Around four, Jim headed back to the farm where Grandpa looked less than surprised to see Ronnie. “Good thing I took out that extra hamburger,” he said with a wink.
Jim peered through the kitchen window to see the bag of charcoal leaning against the shed wall. “I’ll make it up to you. I’ll cook since Ronnie’s my guest.”
“He’s not a guest. He’s family. Which means he gets to do the was
