The restaurant was, for lack of a better phrase, ridiculously overdone. Faux gold trim lined the entire dining room at the baseboards and around the edge of the ceiling. The chairs had round seats and backs and were covered in a chintz fabric that, under better lighting, may have caused blindness. Each table had a tiny lamp set in the center that gave off the absolute dimmest glow possible that could be called lighting. Even the wait staff, in their extra-formal attire and overly-perfected hair and makeup, looked ridiculous. It was one of the best restaurants in Hugoton, but it was also fully out of place in the land of farmers and more farmers. Luckily, while there had once been an attempt at a ‘tie only’ dress code, that had been given up in favor of actual customers. People dressed up to eat, but with no staunch dress code, no one could be turned away.

Morris walked up to the hostess’s lectern and gave her a smile. “Do you have a table for three?”

The hostess, a high-school girl with a long blonde ponytail and lipstick just a tad too bright, looked at the reservation chart. “It’ll be about a twenty minute wait. She dug around on the lectern for a pencil. “May I pencil you in?”

“Please. It’ll be Grant, party of three, non-smoking.” Morris smiled at the girl and stepped away from the lectern. He found Precocious and Linda standing quietly in a corner, just as they’d promised. “It’s going to be about twenty minutes. Do you want to sit at the bar?” Linda gave a very exuberant ‘yes’ at the same time Precocious said ‘no’. Morris looked from one to the other. “How about an answer that ends in agreement?”

“Linda can’t drink the week before a show. She goes crazy and ends up painting with her ass.” Precocious ducked Linda’s hand as the other woman tried to smack the back of her head. “You *do*.”

“It happened once. *Once*, and you don’t let me live it down.” Linda looked mildly peeved. “And, for the record, I was young and stupid at the time.”

Precocious laughed. “You were twenty-three!”

“So?”

“You’re only twenty-four.” Morris held up a hand to forestall Linda getting indignant on him. “I’m not trying to help her case. I’m just saying, is all.” He rolled his eyes as Precocious and Linda poked each other in the arm. “Stop it.” When they didn’t comply, he stepped in between them. “Stop it.” He flinched as Precocious poked him in his left side. “I said-“ He flinched again when Linda poked him in his right side. He’d been set up. “You two are impossible.” He twisted free of the poking fingers and backed himself into the scant open space that the tiny lobby of the restaurant had. “Just for that, no drinks for either of you.”

“You know, if we really wanted them, we could buy them ourselves.” Precocious paused suddenly and patted herself down for her wallet. Her grin was half-amazed, half-pleased when she looked at Morris again. “You haven’t done that in *years*!”

“Well, not physically. Let’s remember, I’m a lawyer.”

“What’d he do?” Linda was feeling around her own pockets. “Did you just *lift* my *wallet*?”

Morris held up two wallets in his left hand. One was bright red, the other was hand-painted in swirls and stripes. “I may have.” He held them out as a peace offering. “I had to retaliate somehow.”

Linda jammed her wallet back into the bib pocket of her overalls and looked at Morris with new respect. “I had no idea you could do that.”

“I haven’t done it in a very long time.” Morris grinned at Precocious. “I’m surprised Precocious hasn’t shown you her version. I taught it to her when she was four.”

“I can still do it.” Precocious held up a pristine, black leather wallet with MAG stamped on the front. She handed it over to her dad. “I can’t believe you didn’t feel me lift it.”

“I’m not used to getting poked when my pocket’s getting picked.” Out of the corner of his eye Morris watched a woman and man in the early years of middle age back away carefully. He laughed out loud and dropped his voice so only Precocious and Linda could hear him. “I think that couple over there thinks we’re going to take their wallets.”

Linda spun around to look and waved at the couple. “Don’t mind us. He’s a lawyer, I’m a painter, and she’s an assistant to a high-powered businessman. We don’t need your wallets.” The couple hurried to the bar. Linda burst out laughing. “Wow. Way too much fun.”

Morris gave Precocious a suffering look. “Why’d I agree to bring her along?”

“She wanted to coat you in paint.”

“Oh, yeah, that.” Morris shook his head. “Maybe I should have let her.”

“You know you have blue paint in your hair, right?” Precocious pointed out the spot to Morris as he turned to face the reflective surface of the walls. “Looks like Linda marked you.”

“Total accident, I swear.” Linda had dug a pen out of her pocket and was busy doodling on her hand. She glanced up as Morris tried to scratch the paint out. “It won’t work. You’re going to need at least a shower to get it out. Trust me.”

“I do.” Morris turned back around and pushed his hair off his forehead. “Oh, well. I’ll manage.”

“Excuse me, sir?”

Morris turned to his left and came face-to-face with the hostess. She looked a bit nervous. “Yes?”

“We have a table ready if your party is ready to be seated.”

“Fantastic. Lead the way.” Morris followed the girl, Precocious followed Morris, and Linda followed Precocious as they were led to a table in a back corner. Morris couldn’t help but smile as the hostess kept glancing back at him a little warily. She must have witnessed the exchange of wallets they’d had. When they got to their table, Morris thanked her and slipped her a twenty with a grin and a wink. The girl thanked him hastily and hurried back to the front of the restaurant. “I think our hijinks made her nervous.”

“I think our hijinks make a lot of people nervous.” Precocious slid into her chair and picked up the menu. “But it wouldn’t be nearly as much fun to be sedate.”

“No, it wouldn’t.” Morris held Linda’s chair out for her and had to lead her into it as she continued to draw on her hand. “How is it that you’re not covered in tattoos?”

“All in due time.” Linda sat and splayed her hand on the table. She didn’t look up as she directed a question towards Precocious. “Did you talk to Tyler?”

“Yeah.” Precocious made sure her voice was neutral.

“And?”

“And, what?”

“Is he coming?”

“Yes, he is.” Precocious flipped the page on the menu to check the dessert specials.

“And does your dad know that you’re trying to date an older man?”

Morris spit water across the table when Linda said that. He heard the faint hiss and sizzle as water hit the obviously overheated bulb in the tiny lamp. “What?!” He stared at Precocious. “How *much* older?”

Precocious, to her credit, seemed unworried at his reaction. “I don’t know, exactly. If he’s the same age as Zachary, then eighteen or nineteen years.” She watched Morris nearly spew another mouthful of water. “And if you’d relax and turn down the over protectiveness, I’d be happy to let you know that I’m not *dating* him. I invited him to Linda’s exhibition because he’s new in town.”

“She also bought him a burger.” Linda sounded mostly disinterested in the conversation.

“You bought him a *burger*?”

Precocious waved him off. “It was his first time at ‘Heart Attack’.”

“You didn’t buy *me* a burger the first time I went to ‘Heart Attack’.”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t want to date you.” Linda finished doodling on her left hand and switched the pen so that she could start on her right.

Morris blanched for a moment at the sheer thought. “Thank, Freud.” He swallowed hard and attempted a third drink of water, which didn’t try to escape. He took a deep breath before speaking. “You realize he’s twice your age?”

“If he were twice my age, he’d be forty-eight. He’s forty-three, at the most.”

“Now, those are the words a father wants to hear.” Morris shook his head before Precocious could do more than glare at him. “Sorry. Give me a minute.”

“Sure.” Precocious sounded peeved. “You’re aware I’m a full-grown woman who can buy her own drinks, pay her own rent, hold down her own job, and choose her own dates, right?”

“Trust me, I know.” Morris took another deep breath. “And I’m not saying you *shouldn’t* date him if you want. I’m just saying that…” He trailed off, not sure what he *was* saying. “You know, I don’t know.”

“Dad, relax. It’s not like we’re serious or pinned or anything. I met the guy four days ago. I bought him a burger because he wandered in at the same time as Linda and I. I asked him to the exhibition because he doesn’t really know anyone and because Linda insisted.”

Linda didn’t look up from drawing on her hand. “He’s cute. He seems nice. She was flirting. It keeps Chad from winning.”

“What the hell does *Chad* have to do with this?” Morris was pretty sure he was about to fall over dead from a heart attack.

“Chad is purely peripheral. He knows nothing about Tyler. He knows nothing about the fact that I’ve asked Tyler to the exhibition. Linda made a very good point that by *not* asking Tyler to the exhibition I was aiding and abetting Chad in his campaign to make me doubt myself.” Precocious pushed her hair off her face a little angrily. “I wasn’t going to invite him because of the whole, messed-up shit with Chad, but Linda pointed out that that was exactly what Chad was going for. I decided to ask him, if only to prove to myself that I wasn’t letting Chad call the shots.”

Morris was feeling like he was getting back on an even keel. “So, you *want* to date Tyler?”

Precocious shrugged. “I don’t know, Dad. I’ve talked to him all of three times. He’s a very nice guy, but he’s just finished a divorce and moved back here. All I can tell you is that I think I’m going to have a good time at the exhibition with him. If you want more information, you’ll have to wait for some progress.”

“All right. I think I can do that.” Morris tried to convey the calm, helpful tone that fathers around the world prided themselves on. He helped himself along with an abrut change in topic. “How’s Lucy?”