running out of new ways to fix fish, and he's bound to bring home more tonight." I winked.
Billy looked me in the eye. "You can't just put fish in that bag and have it automatically become a meal. That's not how you fry a fish."
"W-w-what?" I said, shaken.
He cleared his throat and repeated himself. "I said, 'Sometimes it surprises even me how much your father likes fresh fish," he said, chuckling.
"Ohh. Yes, I suppose it is kind of funny." My face was going red. I'd never talked about it with anyone else, particularly someone that knew my father.
He took in my changed expression, and it made him thoughtful.
"Squawbie," he said, still appraising me. "Why don't you get that new picture of Rebecca out of the car? I'll leave that for Charlie, too."
"What would he want with that?" Squaw asked, his voice morose. I glanced at him, but he was staring at the floor, pulling his eyebrows together.
"Because sometimes grown-ups care about each other's children," Billy said with exasperation. "Just go get it."
"Fine." Squaw slouched back out into the rain.
Billy and I faced one another in silence. After a few seconds, the quiet started to feel awkward, so I turned and headed into the kitchen. I could hear his wet rubber wheels squeak against the linoleum as he followed.
"I hope you're not making tracks, Billy," I said as I shoved the bag into the back of the fridge, and spun around to confront him. "I'd really hate to have to wash the floor again."
He remained silent and his deeply lined face was unreadable.
"Charlie won't be back for a long time." My voice was starting to get rude.
He nodded in agreement, but continued to say nothing.
"Thanks again for the fish fry," I hinted.

352

Chapter 17

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