Page 166 of Wild Card 13

Dad sat across from us with a low sound that might have been a laugh if he ever admitted to making those. Grandpa Hal settled beside him, folded his hands on the table, and looked at Lucy. “How’s your drawing?” he asked.

Lucy went still.

I looked at Grandpa Hal, surprised. He didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he did and, like always, decided not to make a production of tenderness.

Lucy adjusted her glasses. “I haven’t done much of it lately.”

“Shame,” Hal said. “You had a good eye.”

Lucy smiled, but it did something strange at the edges. “Thank you.”

Mom reached for her water as Marlene dropped glasses at the table. “Kendrick wanted to come this morning,” she said gently. “He got called into a job.”

Lucy looked up. “How is he?”

“Busy,” Dad responded.

Mom gave him a look. “He’s good. Tired. Still doing too much. So, exactly the same.”

Lucy’s mouth curved. “That sounds right.”

“He asked about you,” Mom added.

“That was nice of him.” Lucy’s fingers moved around her water glass. “And Thane?”

“Chicago has him on the road,” Dad answered. “Riveters are in Denver tonight.”

“Of course they are,” I said. “Being joyless on mountain time.”

Dad’s eyes shifted to me. “He’s plus-two in his last five.”

“See? Joyless.”

Lucy’s elbow nudged mine.

It was small. Barely anything. An old correction without words.

My body forgot eight years.

She was already looking down at her water like she had not meant to do it. A faint flush whispered over the tops of her cheeks.

I wanted to press my knee against hers under the table. I wanted to lean close and ask if she remembered every time we sat in this corner with our shoulders touching and fries between us and my family loud around us. I wanted to know if this place felt like time travel to her too.

Instead, I picked up my water and drank half of it like that would fix anything.

The burgers came in red plastic baskets lined with paper, buns soft and plain, the patties sealed tight around molten cheese that looked harmless.

Marlene set the extra napkins in front of Lucy.

Lucy looked at the pile. “Is this personal?”

“Experience,” Marlene said.

“I haven’t been here in years.”

“Cheese didn’t cool down while you were gone.”

Grandma Ruth nodded solemnly. “Fear the cheese.”