Page 88 of The Guy in the Alley

Ben blinked.

Elsie started laughing merrily, which I took as a huge win.

Alvin scrunched his nose, then took on a curious expression. “Southpaw is a fuzzy frogillator.”

Yeah. Uh-huh. And that wasn’t a thing.

The look Ben gave his ma made it clear he couldn’t believe she was laughing at this. And then he’d slid me a look that said, “Listen here, you little shit.”

It was a good look on him.

I smiled.

I saw the amusement he was struggling to hide.

“This is banter, right, Dad?” Alvin asked to make sure.

At that, Ben turned to his boy and cracked a soft grin. “Yeah, that’s how Trace and I roll, it seems.” He glanced at me as I sat down next to Elsie. “After today, I’ll deny this for the rest of my life, but that was a good dig. Jackass.”

“As if I’ll let you,” I laughed.

He grinned and shook his head, then turned his focus on the snack basket. “Okay, so what am I looking at here?” He picked up one of the fried treats, and I was fairly certain it was the Snickers bar.

“Who knows?” I shrugged and smirked.

“If it’s fried, we like it,” Alvin stated frankly. “We even tried deep-fried strawberries once, and they were delicious. Remember, Grandma?”

“Of course, love. With the ice cream.” Elsie nodded. “They were tasty.”

I could fucking imagine. I had to try that.

“Damn.” Ben chewed and inspected the snack. “I’m evidently getting dessert first. Try this, bud.” He handed it to Alvin. “It’s Snickers.”

Alvin lit up and didn’t hesitate.

We kinda lost the O’Cleary boys to the snack basket for a while, but I didn’t mind. Elsie complimented me on our wit when it came to naming items on the menu, and I was a fan of compliments. I could actually take some credit too, ’cause I’d come up with at least half the names.

“I’m not sure I understand the Double Trouble reference, though,” Elsie noted. “Is that a sports term?”

“No, it’s the nickname for my friend’s daughter Bella,” I replied, peering closer at her menu. “There should be three items not named after sports or athletes. The Double Trouble burger, the beef—because it’s sacred—and the cheesy bread. It’s named after my nephew.”

“Ah, I see.” She smiled and perused some more. “I notice there’s no poking fun at the Packers. Ben hates the Packers.”

“As any self-respecting person would,” I said with a nod. “We don’t talk about the Packers. We named our garbage bins in the kitchen after them, but they don’t exist out here.”

She laughed softly and shook her head. “You sound like him too, dearie.” She tapped a finger against the T-bone steak. “Ben, sweetie, you should order the Bear Down, T-Formation.” She turned to me. “He loves a good steak.”

Who didn’t?

“It’s a solid choice.” I smiled.

In the end, Ben did choose the T-bone—with a baked potato—claiming he’d been eyeing it on the menu for a while, another thing I filed away in my O’Cleary folder. Elsie opted for the turkey with steamed vegetables, and Alvin wanted the crispy chicken sandwich with extra fries. To which I felt the need to warn him that the portions were pretty big, but Ben assured me Alvin would eat it all—and then whatever the rest of us might not finish.

Alvin grinned sheepishly. “I eat a lot.”

You couldn’t tell, but fair enough. Extra fries, it was.

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