“Not on the grass,” Ruth said, coming out with two glasses of milk.

“He’ll get damp.”

“He doesn’t mind getting damp.”

“He minds.

I’ve known him longer than you have.” Ruth put the glasses on the little table and sat down, and the bench creaked beneath her.

“Your pad’s been empty since lunch.”

Emily turned to a new page and pressed the crayon flat.

She drew a rectangle, then a smaller rectangle inside it, then a little round knob on the right side.