Chapter 6: Pumpkin

Tobias came down to breakfast in a pressed shirt and said, "So. Why are your bedrooms at opposite ends of the hall?"

Griffin froze with a spoon in the yogurt.

Imogen did not.

"He snores," she said.

"I do not snore."

"He talks too," she said. "Mostly about a canoe."

Tobias sat down across from them and unfolded a napkin.

"Funny. Uncle Garrison wanted me to confirm you two were being, you know. A real couple. For the sixty days."

"We're very real," Griffin said, too loud.

"Are you?"

"Extremely."

Imogen set her fork down and gave him a look that said, quite clearly, Don't.

He did.

"Pumpkin," Griffin said, and put an arm around her shoulders. "Could you pass the jam?"

Her face did not change.

"Of course, darling."

"Thanks, pumpkin."

Tobias's eyebrows went up.

Imogen passed the jam. Griffin took it, and because he could not stop himself, he said, "Thanks, my sweet little pumpkin pie."

Tobias coughed into his napkin.

"You call each other that all the time?" he said.

"All the time," said Griffin. "Pumpkin Spice. Pumpkin Patch. Pumpkin, Pumpkin, Pumpkin."

Imogen picked up her tea.

She took a long, steady sip, and set the cup down.

"Cap-boy," she said, and patted his hand.

It was the worst thing anyone had ever called him, and he felt it in his knees.

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