Griffin had told Zoe she could have anything she wanted. The menu was buttered noodles, sweet pickles, and ice cream sundaes for dessert with whipped cream from the can—no restrictions on the amount used, Zoe added firmly, and made Griffin promise. She was in a hurry to finish the noodles so that she could get to the ice cream, was putting them down at an alarming rate, and Griffin had just said “Slow down so you don’t choke!” when the phone rang. Zoe answered it, talked briefly to Ellen, then handed the phone to Griffin.“How’s she doing?” Ellen asked.“Pretty good.” He watched Zoe reload her fork and finish off the noodles.“She sounded a little sad.”“No. I don’t think so. We’re getting ready to make ice cream sundaes—we just finished dinner.”“Oh, yeah? What did you have?”Griffin hesitated. Maybe he should make up a basic-four-food-groups menu. But what the hell. “Noodles and pickles,” he said. “Sweet pickles.”Silence.“Hello?” he said.“That’s all?”“Yeah.
