“Hey.” Dustin's voice was rough with sleep.
“Good morning!” Greg said—much too brightly.
Dustin shot him an odd look. “You okay?”
“Yes. Very okay. Extremely okay.” Greg said with great conviction and an even brighter smile. He couldn't help it. He couldn't make his face look normal. Quick, he had to change the topic. “How's your shoulder?”
Dustin was still looking at him. “Fine.”
“You should ice it.”
“Nah.”
“I could get you ice.”
“Greg.”
“Yes?”
“What's wrong with you this morning?”
“Nothing's wrong. Everything is okay. Extremely okay!”
“You've said that before.”
“Because it's true!”
Dustin did not look at all convinced, but fortunately, he chose not to keep asking. Maybe he was too tired, or maybe he didn't have the energy to pry open another crisis after last night. “Okay, weirdo,” he said, then swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Come on. I smell eggs.”
Cathy stood at the stove with a spatula, andshe was humming.
“Sit down,” she said when they entered. “Breakfast's ready.”
They sat. Cathy served them scrambled eggs, toast, coffee for Dustin and — after a moment's consideration — one for Greg too. With lots and lots of sugar.
“Thank you,” Greg said. “These eggs look wonderful.”
“They're just scrambled,” Cathy said.
“Yes, and they're very well scrambled.” Greg loaded his fork. Maybe if he was busy eating his face would turn normal. And he couldn't say stupid things.
Cathy sat down with her own plate. For a few minutes, the only sounds were forks on plates and the tick of the kitchen clock.
The kitchen clock read 9 AM.
Six hours.
“I need a few things from the store,” Cathy said between bites and Greg almost choked on his eggs.
“What things?” Dustin asked.
“Milk, eggs. A few other things. I can write you a list. I mean, if you two aren't doing anything.”
Dustin shrugged with his good shoulder. “Sure.”
“You don't have to?—”
“Mom. I can buy groceries.”
