At this point, Ryan was a regular and he bounded across the lawn and up to the porch without hesitation. He was pretty winded, actually, leaning over with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. I wondered if I should give him a paper bag to breathe into. After a few long moments, Ryan straightened up. There was a pause while our stares met. I had learned that a pause by Ryan meant there was another whopper of an idea brewing in his head. “Hey, Ryan, what’s up? It’s great to see you. How are the plans coming?” “Do you . . .” He exhaled. “. . . have . . .” He inhaled. “. . . a boat?”
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