From inside, Amelia makes a strangled sound.
I look down at August. “Who taught you that?”
“Aunt Sophie.”
Of course she did.
“She said boys should ask.”
“Sophie is dangerous.”
“She also said if you say something dumb, I should shut the door.”
“That sounds like Sophie.”
Amelia appears behind him, cheeks pink and eyes bright. Her hair is down, soft around her shoulders, and she is wearing jeans that hug her like they were made by a man with dirty thoughts and excellent priorities. Her shirt is simple, black, tucked just enough to make me forget whatever smart answer I might have had.
She ain’t dressed up fancy.
She doesn’t need to be.
She looks like a woman standing in her own doorway, letting me see her because she chooses it.
That punches me in the chest harder than any dress could.
“August,” she says, “we talked about opening the door politely.”
“I was polite.”
“You interrogated him.”
“That is polite for court.”
I hold out the dinosaur. “Brought evidence.”
August’s eyes widen.
The dinosaur is way overdue.
He takes it with both hands. “What’s his name?”
“Your court. You name him.”
August stares at it with deep responsibility. “Throttle.”
Amelia laughs softly.
My heart does something embarrassing.
“Good name,” I say.
August nods. “He’s a road dinosaur.”
“Obviously.”
“What else did you bring?”
I hold up the pine tree air freshener. “For your mama’s truck.”