"I also write."
"You have notebooks."
"I have work notebooks."
Arion waited for an explanation of why that mattered.
None came.
All three joined the basket.
By the time they reached the seasonal clearance section, the bread cushion was balanced precariously over a miniature waffle maker Dean had acquired after insisting there might someday be an emergency requiring exactly one small waffle.
Arion had stopped asking questions.
That was when Dean became completely still.
His attention was fixed on an end display near the party supplies.
Arion followed his gaze.
A transparent box sat between packs of balloons and children's craft kits.
Inside were tiny yellow rubber ducks.
A hundred of them.
Dean crossed the aisle before Arion could intervene.
His violet eyes brightened so quickly that Arion immediately understood this was different from the candles and ceramic frog.
Dean lifted the container.
"Oh."
Arion read the label.
100 MINI DUCKS — HIDE THEM EVERYWHERE.
"No."
