Douglas was already sitting at the table, laughing at nothing andeverything, just like the others. He really did seem to be just a big oldkid right then -- there was nothing of the father about him now. Justnoise and laughing and moving around in his chair, as if it might justkill him if he ever sat still for more than ten seconds at a time. Rainiehalf expected to look down and see him wearing too-short or too-longjeans with holes in the knees, showing one knee skinned up andscabbed over, and maybe raggedy sneakers on his feet. She wasalmost disappointed to see those shiny sensible oxfords and suitpantswith the hems just right. He didn't not look at her, but he didn'tparticularly look at her, either. He was just generally cheerful, beingwith his friends, and he had plenty of good cheer to share withanybody who happened to come along.

"You going to order separate checks and make my life miserable?"asked Rainie of the group at large.

"Just give the bill to Doug," said Tom.

"You can make one total and we'll divvy it up ourselves," saidDouglas. "It'll be easy, because we're all having exactly the samething."

"Is that right?"

"Beans!" cried Tom.

"Beans! Beans! Beans!" chanted several of the others.

"We gots to have our daily beans, ma'am," Tom explained, "causewe gots to feed the baby of love!"

"I got a double batch of chili with extra cinnamon!" called Minniefrom the behind the counter. "This time somebody had the brains tocall ahead and warn me!"

Tom immediately pointed an accusing finger at Douglas. "What isthis, Spaulding! A sudden attack of maturity and consideration forothers? Malicious foresight? For shame!"

Douglas shrugged. "Last time she ran out."

"Chili for everybody," said Rainie. "Is that all? Nothing to drink?"

"What is the drink of the day?" asked one of the men.

"Whose turn is it anyway?" asked another.