He finally cleared his throat. "Well, huh."
"Yeah," I said. "What now?"
"Well"—he cleared his throat again—"I guess you and I go. I mean, unless you really don't want to."
Why put it on me to bail out?
"Do you want to?" I asked.
"Yeah. I really do. I had to talk Dad into giving me the afternoon off. And since I don't usually go to a lot of trouble to fix lunch, it seems a shame to waste the effort. Besides, there's the thing I want you to see."
He said all of this while staring at the door like he was talking to it. I almost expected it to respond.
You've been avoiding me," he said, talking to the sandwich.
I laughed. He looked over at me. "Sorry. I just realized that you talk to a lot of inanimate objects.
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