Speechless(128)

                He aims that slanted grin at me. “So demanding!”

                He gallops her into Rosie’s, me tagging after, and carries her                     up to the counter. The post-lunch lull means the diner is mostly emptied out.                     Dex is ringing up some takeout while Andy scrapes the grill.

                “This is not a playground,” Dex says, extending a white paper                     bag to the pretty blonde girl waiting.

                “Yeah, it’s a mental institution,” Andy says. “Get it                     right.”

                Dex reaches a leg out and kicks him in the shin, but he’s                     smiling.

                Asha slides off Sam’s back and onto a stool. I sit on the one                     next to hers. Phyllis, the sixty-something waitress whom I usually never see                     since she works the day shifts, passes by us with a smile.

                “Where’s Lou?” Asha asks.

                “Ohio. Her sister’s getting married,” explains Dex.

                “Which one?”

                “Elizabeth. The oldest one.” Dex laughs. “You should see the                     bridesmaid dress she has to wear. Hang on. I made her let me take a picture of                     it.”

                He digs his cell phone out of his pocket, presses a few buttons                     and passes it to Asha. I lean over to take a peek. Sure enough, there’s a                     pixeled image of Lou decked out in some sea-foam-green monstrosity, flipping off                     the camera.

                “Wow, that’s bad. But it could be worse. Chelsea and I saw some                     seriously awful dresses today,” Asha says, handing back the phone.

                “At, like, the mall?” Sam says in a put-upon Valley Girl                     accent. He’s behind the counter, washing his hands. “Was it, like, totally                     awesome, like, oh, my gawd?”

                Andy snaps a dish towel at him. “Dude, you’re creeping me out                     with that voice.”

                Sam flicks a spray of water his way, and then they’re tussling                     playfully. Guess the tension from yesterday is a nonissue.

                Boys. I will never understand them. Not even the gay ones.

                “I give up,” Dex says, throwing up his hands in defeat.

                “So why were you looking at dresses?” Andy asks, Sam’s head                     locked under one arm.