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“He feels a little hot,” she said, looking at me.

I put a hand on his forehead and he swatted at me. “Get off me, dick. You smell like onions.”

I rolled my eyes. “He’s fine. The Advil will help.”

“Do you want some ice?” she asked. “For your face?”

“No, I’m just gonna go to sleep,” he said.

She squeezed his hand. “I’m making you lunch. Let me know when you’re ready.”

Gratitude moved across his expression.

I know he said he didn’t want it, but I could tell he was glad she’d come. Like she’d passed some test he didn’t know he was giving her.

I gave him the pills and he lay back down.

“We’ll be out here. Holler if you need us,” she said.

He nodded into his pillow and we returned to the kitchen.

“So McNougat…” she said, going back to the carrots.

I picked up my knife. “We couldn’t just let that go, huh?”

“Definitely not.”

“I like nougat candy,” I said, resuming my onion torture. “I got a big bag of them once on the way up to the cabin.”

“So they call you McNougat just for that?”

“That’s all it takes,” I said.

“Do the other guys have nicknames?”

“Yup. Jesse is Fisticuffs.”

She laughed. “Fisticuffs?”

“He got into a fight in the ninth grade.”

“Did he win?” she asked.

“No.”

She was cracking up.

“Xavier is Z,” I said.

“Why does he get the cool nickname?” she asked, scooping carrots into the stockpot.

“That is very Xavier of him, believe me. Completely on brand.”

“And Mike?” she asked.

“The Toilet Prince.”

She burst into laughter.