Chapter 35

The last time I’d been to Mink’s I couldn’t move around that well but I still enjoyed it. I had some idea what to expect and was anxious to get started. It was a Friday morning and I expected it to be quiet but it was busy like a weekend. We were a few minutes early so we drifted over to the ring to watch a couple of guys sparring. I could hear Kim providing an occasional ‘ouch’ on behalf of whoever had just been hit. It was kind of funny but I knew how she felt.

“Hey, Aquaman. Ready to do some work?” Timex was right behind us with tape and gloves. We turned and I said I was ready. “Good. You right-handed so I’m going to take that and tape you up. Missy, you goin’ to be coming wit him?”

“It’s Kim. Yes.”

“Good. Den watch what I do and let’s see if you can tape up his left. If you get taped up befo-hand it will save time and you won’t waste yo money and workout time on me doing it. Just watch what I do, Missy, and do the same fo his left.”

“It’s Kim. I’ll try to keep up.”

She was a bit miffed that he called her Missy after she corrected him. They got me taped up and I felt pretty professional.

“Alright, that looks good. Now, before we slide these gloves on, if there’s anything you need to adjust, do it now. Kind of tough with these things on. They like big mittens. Just slide them on Missy and I’ll show you how to tie them.”

“Anyone ever mistake you for a Rolex?” Kim asked.

“No. I’m Timex.”

“Yeah. No one’s ever going to mistake you for a Rolex either if you don’t bother to learn their name.”

He smiled, broadly, showing off his pearly whites. “If you got half da attitude she does, Aquaman, you do just fine. You going to take some lessons too, Kim?”

“I feel more in a giving mood today.”

“Alright, alright,” he said normally, then, “Schooled me. Definitely schooled me,” quietly, as though Kim couldn’t hear, then “How do they feel?”

“Heavy. Do I need a mouthpiece?”

“Not today. That’s lesson numba one. These suckers are heavy. Punchin air is a workout. Stamina is a big deal. They feel snug? Good. They should. Now we got yo hands taken care of, let’s talk about yo feet. You goin want some new shoes fo dis. You need some ankle support. These will do today. Here’s how we do this. I tell you. Then I show you. Then, you do it. Then I fix it. Then you ask questions. Feet together. Step back one pace with yo right. Good. Feet too close together and you can move fasta but you don’t have no stability and you don’t have no powah. Feet too wide and you got good powah and stability but you can’t move fast. Middle ground. Middle ground. Good,” he said as I adjusted my feet.

He continued to work with me, teaching me how to move left and right, forward and backward, always keeping my feet ready. He made me keep my guard up, even when we were working on my footwork. He told me that next week if I dropped my guard I was going to get hit. After I had the footwork basics, he had me throw jabs as I moved. He corrected me about twice for everything I’d learned.

“Ever mistake you don’t fix in practice is a openin fo yo ponent. No mistakes, no optunety. You make him make mistakes. You don’t make ‘em. Mistakes are easier to make da further into a fight you go. You want to be able to box with no mistakes fo three rounds mo than you going to box. Understand?”

I wanted to learn how to box. Timex was training me to fight Marvin Hagler. I liked it. With about fifteen minutes left, we took the gloves off and he put different, lighter gloves on me, then introduced me to the speed bag. The speed bag was for timing and endurance. I could improve those without needing a training partner. The heavy bag was good for power. But he said it had big limitations. He said you got lazy with a heavy bag since it didn’t move around much and didn’t hit back. There was no need to practice distance control, your defense tended to get lazy, you had no reason to move fast, couldn’t throw uppercuts and you could hurt your hands. Target pads were better but you needed two people.

“You coming with him next time, Miss Kim?”

She smiled. “Yes, thank you.”

Timex smiled back. “I ain’t goin call you nothin but Kim. What’s rule number one? Don’t get hit. Not me, uh uh,” he said, and pretended Kim had taken a swing at him and he ducked. They both smiled.

By the time we finished, I felt like my head was full and my arms were definitely done. I was also pretty stinky. No wonder gyms smell. When we got back to my house, I went to shower and changed while Kim went looking for Mom. I knew I wanted to go to the sporting goods store but that could wait. I knew Kim wanted to go riding again but it was already warm outside. I had a pair of shorts in one hand and jeans in the other and realized I was about to stick my head out the door and holler to Kim, ‘What should I wear?’ How in the world did that happen? I put shorts on.

I went looking for them and spotted Kim by the pool. I watched for a minute and Mom popped up and climbed out. I started for the back when I saw Veronica pop up and climb out as well. If there was a smallest tan line contest, Veronica would be in the running. I went to the game room. The day before, Lori turned my head and I couldn’t do anything but admit it. The day before, Kim and I had enjoyed some morning fun, too. That was a bit of insurance against popping a boner when one of Kim’s friends walked past. No way I was going to go looking for trouble. No way I was going to go out back and challenge my dick to remain limp when Veronica was dressed like that. I didn’t want to be the cause of Veronica’s death or Kim going to jail. Nope.

I went to the library and started on the Y volume. I was reading about the yag, a synthetic yttrium aluminum garnet, used for infrared lasers and as a gemstone when Kim came in. She asked what I was reading. I started to tell her.

“Stop. I withdraw the question,” she said.

“Okay. I have one for you,” I said as she sat across from me. “How do we, as a couple, make decisions when we’re in disagreement?”

“Give me an example.”

“Alright. Let’s see. Okay. Suppose we’ve decided on a college and we’re looking for an apartment to rent. You really like apartment A and I really like apartment B. We’re both set on our individual preferences. Oh, and those are the only two apartments still available to rent.”

“Apartment B,” she said.

“Why? Why do we go with my choice?”

“Because you’re the man. You know what I like but if you still want the other one, that’s the one we rent.”

“Just because I’m the guy?”

“Yup. Sort of. I trust you to include my preferences in your decision.”

“It’s that simple for you? No way. Really?”

“Yup. I’ve watched Mom and Dad make decisions like that and that’s how they do it and it works for them. They love each other. Dad’s not going to choose anything that would hurt Mom. He just wouldn’t. She makes her case and he decides.”

“Wow. That’s a pretty good deal for the guy. For me.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. You also get the responsibility for getting it wrong.”

“Ooh. Hadn’t thought of that.”

“Plus, if you really dork it up, there would be no sex for an undisclosed duration. So, there’s that.”

“Kim! Jack! What are you two talking about?”

“I didn’t hear them come in. Did you?” I asked, quietly.

“The decision-making process couples use,” Kim hollered.

“Whew. For a minute I thought you were talking about withholding sex,” Mom said as she walked in, with Veronica in tow.

“It might be part of a future negotiating practice,” Kim answered.

“An effective and time-honored practice,” Veronica added. We all looked at her and she added, “The Intervention of the Sabine Women, by David. You can look it up.”

“I know that painting,” Kim said.

“You two are going to need another negotiating tactic for quite some time,” Mom said, and I hoped she was right.

I shared with them Kim’s decision-making policy. Mom agreed that getting it wrong was not something either of you wanted to do when it was hotly contested and passing the buck to the man was probably a safe solution. Veronica wasn’t so sure.

“Kim, I’m not sure you want advice from either of us on this,” Veronica said. “Neither of us have a great track record with men. At least I don’t. Ronnie was a good man ... when he was around.”

“Veronica’s right, Kim,” Mom said. “You say your folks have handled things that way for as long as you can remember and they’ve been married for how long? Forty years or something?”

“So far, we just talk through everything. I just asked how we would decide something when we disagreed and it was important. What’s the most important thing you disagreed with Ronnie on, Mom?”

“That’s easy. This house. I thought it was a monstrosity. A huge indulgence. Decadent. I called it the Gatsby House for over a year. He said it was an investment that would not only hold its value but prove profitable in the long run.”

“Was he right or wrong?” I asked.

“It was money. He was right. He was always right about money. He had it. He wouldn’t waste it but he wasn’t afraid to spend it, either,” Mom said.

“Sounds like someone I know,” I said and explained about Kim calling a cab.

We ended up having a long discussion about different decisions Mom and Ronnie had made and then Veronica relayed some of her own. Kim and I just listened. It was like a class and you never knew who was going to be right until the end. They’d been talking for a while and Mom offered to make lunch for us and we agreed to that. As much as Veronica was working at trying to rebuild relationships, I wondered if the tension would ever go away.

Over lunch, Kim told Mom and Veronica about my boxing lesson. She did love to brag on me and I relaxed and let her. I realized I bragged on her quite a bit too. It was probably a good thing. A healthy thing. I remembered something from the book and I could hardly wait to share it. We finished and they agreed to clean up. They were going out to dinner later and invited us but we declined. One meal in a day with Veronica was probably my max.

We got in the truck and were headed for the sporting goods store. Kim knew me. She knew it could wait but there was no reason to.

“I was thinking about lunch and what you said about me and the book on relationships,” I said.

“Wow. All that?”

“Yeah, and I got to thinking what would be a really good policy.”

“I’m all ears,” she said and she was serious.

“I know how you like to brag on me and at first I was kind of uncomfortable but now I kind of like it. And I realize I do it too, so that’s a good thing. I mean, it’s nice that we think highly of each other. And the book was talking about respect and stuff. Well, I thought the opposite would suck.”

“That seems pretty obvious.”

“Yeah. But, listen. If you ever have a problem with me ... say, I’m not paying attention to you or something, tell me. Don’t tell Mom or Dane or Karen. Tell me. If we have an issue, let’s promise to keep it between us. If I like you bragging on me, I’d hate if you were tearing me down in front of friends. I won’t either. No matter what.”

“I wouldn’t do that. But, after a while, I bet I might get frustrated and do it. I won’t.”

“Yeah. Me neither. Never.”

“That’s a really good policy, Jack. Why would we want someone else to know about our personal gripes?”

“Yeah. I can’t imagine. I mean, what good would it do me to, for example, complain to Franklin that you just can’t keep your hands off me?”

“Yeah. That just wouldn’t do any good at all. Doofus. Hello, Karen. This is Kim. Jack’s dick is just too short. I wonder if you have that problem with Franklin and what you do about it?”

“Nice. Very nice. You have a twisted sense of humor, you know that?”

“Thank you. I wonder if they have anything that could help at Bad Kitty.”

“Stop. You’re going to make me self-conscious and then I’ll have performance issues.”

“Your dick is just right. Perfect, in fact.”

“How quickly...”

We pulled into the lot and went shopping. I had a shortlist. Shoes were the hardest. A mouthpiece was the easiest. I asked Kim if I should get target pads or a speed bag. I got some target pads and gloves, too. The good stuff was leather and more expensive. Kim bought some lifting gloves, wondering why she hadn’t done it a long time ago. Neither of us could think of anything else so we checked out and went back to the truck. We had just sat down when thunder boomed loud enough to make us both jump. We didn’t have a lot of bad weather options so we went back toward my house.

The sporting goods store was a solid half-hour away from the house. When it started raining, it came down in buckets. Kim’s wiper blades were worthless. We pulled over to wait for it to stop. After thirty minutes, we realized we could be there a while.

“I think there’s an auto parts place about a block up the street on this side. We can go there and get new wiper blades and see how much of a difference it makes.”

“Do you know how to put them on?”

“Yeah, I do, as a matter of fact. Franklin taught me on Karen’s car.”

“You’ll get soaked.”

“Got an alternative?” She didn’t so she waited for traffic to lighten up and then drove a block and then two, to find the auto parts store. I made the mad dash in and bought blades. By the time I got back into the truck, I was pretty wet.

“You sure?” she asked.

“Yeah, but look. There’s a bank across the parking lot. They have three drive-through lanes but only one is open. If you scoot over there, under the awning thing, I can change them there.”

“Smart man,” she said and that’s what we did. The teller inside watched me do it, smiling the whole time.

She drove us back to my house at twenty miles an hour with the wipers slapping back and forth on high speed. Several streets were flooded but the truck rode high enough that we didn’t have too much of a problem. I told Kim to park close to the house. The one thing I disliked about our home was how far away the detached garage was from the house. I’d broken a foot, crossing that driveway before. I didn’t want to do it again. We waited for it to let up a little, then made a dash for the house. Once inside, we stood in the foyer, letting water drip on the tile.

“Let’s shower, dry off, and warm-up,” I said.

“Let’s warm-up, then shower and dry off,” Kim answered.

It took me a second to realize the change in sequence. I checked the fridge for a note. “IOP for dinner and dancing. Dane meeting us there. Back by ten. Order out.” We had six hours. The Isle of Palms was probably an hour away, depending on traffic.

We went back to my room, dripping all the way. When we got there, we squished into each other’s arms and began the warming up process. I pulled Kim’s top off and she pulled my shirt over my head. I reached around behind and unhooked her bra, let it fall and then stepped back to admire my stone fox girlfriend.

“Less looking. More touching,” she said.

I stepped forward and pointed to her largest freckle. “This is one,” I said, pointing to a freckle very near her nipple, “Is Nessa. That means promontory. I’ve been waiting to name it since I read the meaning.”

“You’re a kook. My kind of kook. Name them while I’m asleep after you satisfy me many times.”

“Ah. I have to satisfy you many times, huh.”

“If you want me to keep driving you around, you do.”

“I know a great way to keep my eyes off your freckles,” I said and knelt down to remove her squishy wet shoes.

She figured it out quickly and pushed her jeans down. I pushed her back onto the bed. She sat back with her hands behind her and spread her legs for me. I settled down between her knees.

“You’re already wet,” I said.

“Doofus. We got rained on. You’re wet, too. Quit talking and satisfy me many times.” I satisfied her many times.

Suddenly, she pushed my head away. “Off, off, off. Stop. Listen,” she said. “Crap.”

“What?”

“Shh. Didn’t you hear the car? Your mom’s home. Veronica too, no doubt. Can’t you hear them?”

“Shit. What do we do?” I hadn’t planned for that.

Kim was pulling wet clothes on at a frantic pace, difficult to do when they were so wet. She didn’t bother with socks.

“My truck’s here. No way to hide that. Let me out the window, then jump in the shower. Make it a quick one. Dry off and look for me at the back door. I’ll figure something out.”

“It’s still pouring.”

“Got a better idea?”

I didn’t. I opened the window and pulled the screen in. She climbed out and pushed back so she wouldn’t leave footprints in the flower bed. “I hate this,” I said.

“Me too. You only satisfied me twice.” She was already soaked to the bone again. “We were in the foyer. You went to your room to shower and dry off. That’s all you know, okay? Go.”

I closed the window on her and practically cried. She looked so miserable. I took the fastest shower imaginable, dried off, then used the towel to dry off the window sill. I changed into some shorts and a T-shirt, clothing to stay inside in. I took a deep breath and went out to face the music, or discover what she’d figured out. My heart was pounding. How was she going to get us out of this?

I started to leave the sanctuary of the hallway and stopped myself. Don’t be surprised. No concern. I’m ignorant of whatever Kim did. Was she still outside? I couldn’t wait. I walked to the front door and looked out. I was about to walk to the back when I saw her wet shoes by the door. Inside. Good. I walked into the kitchen.

“Hey, Aquaman. Just your kind of weather, isn’t it?” Veronica said.

Mom was bent over, looking in the fridge. “You better be appreciative when Kim gets dried off,” Mom said. I had no idea what for.

“I’m always appreciative.”

“Your boxing stuff is in the gym,” Mom said. “She said you left it in the back of the truck and she didn’t trust the bag to keep it dry. She’s in my room, drying off. You owe her one.”

“Definitely. I guess I forgot it was even back there. We had to stop for wipers and, well, that’s another story. What happened to dinner and dancing?” The bag had been at my feet but Kim’s story worked. Quick thinking on her part.

“We didn’t even go down the connector.” The connector was the road that connected the Isle of Palms to the mainland. “We could see there were no lights on IOP and a power outage where we were. All the traffic lights were out.”

Veronica wiped the corner of her mouth and I thought she was signaling me. I wiped mine, felt something, and rubbed it into my hand. It was one of Kim’s pubes. I saw that Veronica had noticed something, but hoped she didn’t know what that something was. Were we going to make it out of this? I excused myself to use the restroom. I breathed on my hand and smelled Kim. Kim was keeping us out of trouble and it was as though I was trying to get us into trouble. I gargled and checked again. Much better. I gave myself a once over and walked back out. When I got there, Kim was already in the kitchen. She was wearing one of Mom’s knee-length sleep shirts.

“I’m going to make something simple,” Mom said. “You never know,” the lights flickered, “when the power is going to go out. Our generator doesn’t kick on automatically like the McTighe’s. We’ll do without for a while if we need to. We need to make it automatic, however, you do that.”

“I’ll get the battery lantern. At least we have a gas stove. Warmed up and dried off?” I asked.

“Yes. I might like to hit those target pads later. I can’t believe you forgot that stuff in the back.”

“Me neither. Sorry.”

“I’ll live. Thanks for doing my wipers by the way.”

Crisis averted. I went to the hall closet and pulled down one of the hurricane prep boxes. I checked the batteries and took two lanterns back to the kitchen. I set them down on the counter and Kim took me by the shoulders and backed me out and to the library.

“You do me so right. It’s like you know just what I want,” she whispered. “I’m still tingling. You are an amazing lover; in case you didn’t know.”

“I aim to please.”

“I’m not just saying that. Jack, I didn’t even know what an orgasm was.”

“There is nothing I would rather do than give you pleasure.”

“Without getting caught,” she added smiling.

“Without getting caught. Way to go, Baby. I don’t think I would have come up with something as believable as that.”

“I was motivated ... and wet. So, so, so worth it. I am glad you like to do that. I hear locker room talk and some guys won’t do that for their girlfriends.”

“You don’t...”

“No. I might have at one time but you clued me in. I just listen, and they talk. I mean they really talk.”

“I don’t think I want to know.”

“You don’t. You know I like to brag about you, but on this, I don’t. I really could, though. So good.”

I was beaming. “I guess it’s just between you and me. Like it’s supposed to be.”

“I know, but ... Ooh, I know. I’ll tell Cheryl. I feel like I have to tell someone and she’s safe, right?”

“She’s safe and I’m sure she’d love to hear how much she’s helped. Mom’s going to miss us. Kiss me so I have a legitimate excuse for grinning like this.”

We had just stepped into the kitchen when the phone rang and I took it. “Pierce residence, Jack speaking.”

“Jack, Dane. I just have a minute. Tell Christie I’m working in ER and don’t know when I’ll be done. There was a big pile up on I26 among other things. We’ve got people on gurneys in the halls. I haven’t seen it like this before. Tell her I’m fine and I’ll call later if I can. Everyone okay?”

“Yeah. We’re fine. I’ve got the battery lanterns out and I think Mom’s cooking burgers. I guess I should call and check on Kim’s parents.”

“That would be a good idea. Whoop, the generators just kicked in. Check on Franklin too. Gotta go,” he said and hung up.

I relayed the conversation to everyone then called Kim’s house. Mrs. McTighe answered and said they were fine. Pat pretended it didn’t bother him but it did, she said. I was to keep Kim at our house until it settled down. I called Franklin and he was fine but Karen was out with friends and she hadn’t called in a while. I asked him to call when she got there. Then Kim took the phone and called the stables. Ghost was pissed at the world but the other horses seemed okay. Ghost seemed like a pretty strong horse to me. I didn’t think I’d want to see him when he was pissed at the world.

“Jack, would you be a dear and get a bottle of rum from the game room, please. If we’re going to pretend to have a hurricane, I’m going to pretend we’re in one.”

Mom drank about four times a year unless she was with Veronica. I found two different kinds of rum. One was light and one was dark. Who knew? I took both of them back to the kitchen and set them on the counter. I watched as she put ice in two glasses, poured dark rum into each, and then topped them off with Coke.

“When you’re older,” Mom said, “You can pay six dollars for a Cuba Libre, or you can pay four dollars for a rum and Coke and have them squeeze some lime into it, like this,” she said as she squeezed half a lime into each drink. She put one in front of Veronica and said, “That will be six dollars.”

Veronica said, “Put it on my tab,” and took a healthy sip.

“What are the best drinks?” I asked.

“For you, Coke is just fine,” Mom answered.

“Come on. I want to know. There’s dozens of bottles in the bar cabinet, plus all kinds of little bottles like orange angosomething.”

“Angostura. That’s for making a Manhattan. There’s such a wide variety. Ronnie liked Scotch. One time he said he had to make good money so he could afford good scotch.”

“Scotch is expensive?” I asked.

“Good Scotch. You can get Scotch for about the same price as other liquors but the best Scotch is higher priced than the best Rum.”

“How expensive?”

“He’s got, listen to me. I sound like he’s still here. There are a couple of Scotches that he paid over two hundred for. I think there’s a twenty-five-year-old Macallan and another from Bowmore that are probably in that price range. There’s a couple of others whose names I can’t pronounce that are even more expensive.”

“That’s pretty expensive for a drink. Do you mix them with Coke or what?”

“Oh, honey. I think I just heard Ronnie rollover. No. High-end Scotch like that is sipping whiskey. Maybe a little soda, but probably not.”

“What are your favorites?”

“I like free,” Veronica said and took another sip.

“Free is good. Rum and Coke is easy and this is a good rum and that makes a difference. Sometimes, I’ll drink a gin and tonic and I do like a mint julep.”

“A mint julep sounds wonderful,” Veronica said.

“I know. I wish I had some fresh mint,” Mom answered.

“You should grow some in your greenhouse,” Veronica said.

“Ooh. I could, couldn’t I? Why didn’t I think of that?” Mom asked.

“Because you’re not a lush, honey,” Veronica answered.

“What do you think I would like?” I asked.

“You’re too young to drink but you can taste if you want,” she said, passing me her glass.

“This is a rum and Coke,” I said and took a good-sized sip. “Tastes like Coke,” I said and then the alcohol hit my throat and I coughed. “Yikes. How do you drink that? I’m pretty sure it would be better without the rum.”

They both laughed but Kim was taking note of everything. “Would it be okay if I tasted something?”

“I don’t think we’re going anywhere anytime soon. Would your parents mind?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Do you want to try this or is there something on your mind? It looks like there is.”

“There’s a drink that is mentioned in a bunch of music I like. Maybe not a bunch, but there’s only one I can think of by name.”

“What’s that, honey? If we have it, you can try a little taste.” The lights flickered again.

“Jack Daniels. I don’t even know what kind that is.”

“Bourbon. It’s a type of bourbon made in Tennessee. I think they say it’s Tennessee whiskey but I think it’s really a type of bourbon. It’s probably the best-selling American whiskey.”

“That’s probably why it’s in country-western music, then.”

“Probably is. It’s not bad, it’s not expensive and you can find it in every bar in America. Ronnie probably would have stuck his nose up at it but there might be some.”

“I can check,” I said and left for the game room.

When I came back in, Mom was hanging up the phone with Mrs. McTighe. “It’s the end of spring break and you’ll probably end up spending the night here. A taste or two,” she said.

“It hasn’t been opened,” I said, reading the label. “Old number seven, sour mash, made in Lynchburg, Tennessee. This says it’s ninety proof and forty-five percent alcohol. Is that a lot?”

“It’s enough, honey,” Veronica said.

“Do you mix it with something?” I asked.

“You can but I bet if it’s in a country-western song, they probably were singing about drinking it straight or on the rocks. I’m going to put some ice in a glass and pour a little over it and you can try it that way,” Mom said.

We watched while she did. Kim took a good-sized sip, smiled, then choked.

“Okay. We’re good,” she said. She coughed a couple more times. “You can call me Frontier Girl from now on. I think I’ll wait a while to try that again.”

Veronica reached for her glass and Kim pushed it to her. She drank the rest of it in one drink, set the glass down, and smiled. “Boy, is that a familiar flavor.”

“How much does it take to get drunk?” I asked.

“Depends on the person,” Veronica said. “I can drink four or five drinks and not be drunk. Maybe a bit tipsy and probably shouldn’t drive but not really drunk. You, honey, would probably be pretty well smashed on two or maybe three. Maybe just one.”

“And you’d puke your guts out and wake up with the worst headache you’ve ever had. Not going to happen,” Mom added.

“No. Just curious. I’m really curious what Scotch tastes like. If that was Ronnie’s favorite.”

“You barely tasted the rum and Coke. Go get the Macallan if you want to. And then we’ll call it quits, okay.”

“Yeah. I’m just curious.”

I came back with the Macallan. She poured a small amount without ice. I smelled it and then took about a tablespoon in my mouth and held it there for a minute. I didn’t like it.

“It doesn’t taste good to me. It tastes smokey, but it tasted a little like coconut, too. That’s weird. But mostly it tastes strong. That’s enough for me.”

Kim took a taste and agreed. Veronica finished the little bit and agreed. “It’s wasted on me,” she said. I’d just as soon drink Jack. The whiskey, honey,” she said to Kim.

Kim pushed the bottle of Jack Daniels to Veronica and hugged me shoulder to shoulder.

“I get it. Your Jack, my Jack. You two are...”

“Syrupy,” Mom said. “They are so sweet on each other it’s like dessert walking around.”

“That’s right. That’s exactly right,” I said. “Also, maybe I’m a beer guy. Could I try one of those?”