I wonder if he’s been up and about since morning. If he hasn’t had anything since lunch. He’s huge, probably always ravenous. Simple stuff, big portions. “Burgers,” I say. He gives me a Nice try look. “Yes, Elsie, I do like burgers. That wasn’t the question, though.” I scowl. How does he do this? How does he always— “Want me to pull over so you can get out and stomp your foot a bit?”
