Hannah and Mason had taken the booth behind him.
“At some point, Hannah went to the restroom. Mason got up and moved to Tyler’s booth.”
“That sounds unlike him.”
“It was.”
“What did he say?”
Diane smiled faintly.
“He told Tyler he was tapping his foot seventy-two times per minute.”
Despite everything, I almost laughed.
“That sounds exactly like him.”
“Tyler told him to get lost.”
My smile vanished.
“Mason didn’t.”
According to Diane, Mason had stared at Tyler for several seconds.
Then he said, “You have been crying.”
Tyler became angry.
He asked what business it was of Mason’s.
And Mason, eight years old and famously terrible at conversational diplomacy, answered:
“It isn’t my business. But you are making it everyone’s business because you are shaking the table.”
Tyler laughed.
A real laugh.
The first Diane had heard from him in weeks.
Then Mason asked why he was crying.
