"Good idea," I said.

"Come play!" Claire shrieked.

"Okay." Mal suddenly grinned. She jumped up.

"Hey," I said. "Wait for me!"

We played freeze tag until Mal's mother came home.

Maybe I wasn't all that sophisticated. And maybe, I thought, making a dive for Mal, I didn't care if I ever was.

We often eat dinner a little later than most people, because my father works late. He was almosttoo late for dinner that night. We were just sitting down at the table when we heard the back door open.

"I'm home and a happy man!" he announced, pausing in the doorway of the dining room. He leaned over to give Sharon a quick kiss. "Just let me hang up my coat and put my briefcase…"

His voice trailed off as he hurried down the hall.

He was back in a minute. "Hmmm. Smells good. What's the entree?"

"Three-cheese macaroni," said Dawn. "It's a recipe I made up."

"Sounds great," said Dad. He sat down. He smoothed his napkin onto his lap. He picked up his fork.

We'd all started eating by then. It was a great dinner, California-vegetarian-Schafer style, with some Spier touches thrown in, such as the double garlic and onion toast I'd made.

I put chopped up little chunks of garlic and onion on top of the toast and it looked pretty good.

I waited for my dad to taste everything and talk about how delicious it was—something he almost always does.

But he just sat there, holding his fork, looking around the table.

I knew something was up.

I put down my fork. Was something wrong? But my dad looked pretty cheerful. And hadn't he just announced that he was a happy man?

So now two of us were holding our forks and not eating. Dad met my eyes and he grinned. He cleared his throat.