SCHOKOLADENSHAKE

"The milkshakes are really good," Phillip said, peering over his menu at Libby, who was flipping through the pages of The Pie Plate's menu. She was probably looking for salads, he thought, or the light lunches, skipping right past the fun stuff to things you could make at home. "Sometimes they have specialty flavors."

"Really?" Libby tucked her white-blond hair behind one ear. "Like what?"

Phillip shrugged. "Candy cane at Christmas. Mint on St Patrick's Day."

"Oh, like a Shamrock shake?"

"Better," Phillip insisted. "Anyway, everything is good here." He felt like an idiot. All the words coming out of his mouth were things Lee had said to him, but he was pretty sure Lee had never said those things on a date with a girl. In fact, when he'd asked Lee about dating, his stepfather had laughed a little and refused to answer for a minute.

"You can't tell me you have no advice," Phillip said. "I heard enough jokes at your wedding."

Lee had cleared his throat, his cheeks coloring a little. "Just be yourself," he said. "And be a gentleman. And – and keep your hands to yourself, kid, or else."

He'd laughed, but his cheeks had burned even as he did. "Of course," he said. "I know that."

"I've gotta say it," Lee told him. "Your dad's not here to do it so I'm contractually obligated."

Phillip thought he'd have died of embarrassment having that conversation with his dad. They didn't know each other well enough. Or not the right way. Something. Anyway, it wasn't so bad with Lee.

It wasn't that Phillip was new at dating. He'd gone out with girls before, to dances or to hang out at the roller rink or to the movies. It was that he wasn't used to going out with someone he liked so much. It was a weird thing, how much he liked Libby, who he'd known since third grade but only started to hang out with when he joined the track team. He liked her so much he'd considered never asking her out in the first place.

Lee had laughed when Phillip had told him that, and when Phillip asked why, he'd said, "No reason — that's nice. Definitely keep your hands to yourself."

So now Phillip was self-conscious about his hands.

He'd brought Libby to The Pie Plate because it was a good place and he wanted to treat her to dinner. She'd made it pretty clear he didn't have to treat her to dinner — she had babysitting money — but he'd been paid for a whole weekend of yard work and he wanted to make up for the fact that they had to ride their bikes over there. Libby didn't seem to care much about that, either. She rode her bike everywhere.

"I'm getting a grilled cheese sandwich," Libby announced. "With fries."

No salads, not even a side salad. He liked Libby a little more right then.

He heard a familiar laugh float across the room, above the clinking of cutlery and glassware and the hum of conversation. He knew that laugh anywhere — it belonged to his grandmother. Phillip's head came up, his eyes scanned the room. She was here somewhere. There, across the dining room, with a guy he'd never seen before.

"No. Way."

"What's the matter?" Libby asked. "Phillip?"

"My grandmother is here," he said, barely able to believe it. He turned to look at Libby and saw she was laughing. "It's not funny!"

"I like your grandmother," Libby said.

"When have you met my grandmother?"

"She came to our play in seventh grade. Remember?"

Philip had a vague memory of being in a school play and his mother missing it. He hadn't thought about that in a long time — so much had happened since then. But when Libby brought it up he remembered it like yesterday, because Libby had been in the play, too. She'd had one line, and she couldn't say it without laughing. Miss Martinez, the teacher, had nearly lost her mind over it.

"Does she still live with you guys?" Libby asked, following his gaze across the room. Dotty's date was pulling out a chair for her; she turned her back to them as she sat down.

"No," Phillip said. "She has her own place. She moved out after my mom got married again."

He wasn't sure how he felt about that. It felt weird every time he said it. He'd liked having his grandmother around — they'd had a lot of fun with her and his mom, and he never felt like he missed out on anything. Some people thought he and Jamie had been all torn up because their dad worked halfway around the world and never saw them, but it was just how things were. His mom had taught him how to throw a baseball and his grandma had taught him how to make cookies and roast beef, his two main specialties.

"Are you going to go say hello?"

"No way, she's on a date," he said, laughing.

"So are you!" Libby was laughing, too. Then she stopped and looked at him with twinkling blue eyes. "It's weird, isn't it? But nice."

"What, this?" Phillip shifted in his seat. "No. I mean yes. I mean it's both."

Their food came. Brenda brought it — she was the waitress who served them most often and seemed to know his mom and Lee much better than any waitress should ever know customers. She tipped her head in the direction of Dotty's table as she set down his burger.

"Your grandma's over there."

"I know," Phillip said, rubbing his palms on his jeans.

"Well, she saw you over here and she's not going to bug you," Brenda said. "But she wants to buy you both dessert."

"Aw," Libby said, "that's so nice. Your grandma is so nice."

"Yeah," Phillip said, secretly pleased Libby thought so. "She really is."

Be yourself, he heard Lee saying, and he tried not to feel stupid about the whole conversation.

"I used to be so jealous that your grandmother lived with you," Libby said. "When we were little. Mine lives so far away."

"Really? Where?"

"Germany."

"I've been to Germany," he said. "I really liked it. We went to Munich."

"I love it there. The whole thing."

"I'd like to go back sometime," he said. "I know there's an exchange program in senior year and I've thought about applying for it."

"Me too!" Libby bounced in her seat a little, excited by the idea. "We should study German together. Order milkshakes. Kann ich einen Schokoladenshake haben?"

Phillip's eyes widened. "What is that?"

"Can I have a chocolate shake?" Libby said. "I think."

"You should order one for dessert and see if Brenda understands you."

"No way, that's mean."

"It isn't. I've heard her speak Italian."

"How often do you come here?" Libby wondered.

Phillip stirred the ice in his Coke. "A lot," he said. "It's a family favorite."

Libby bit into a fry and nodded. "Well it's pretty good, so I guess I can see that. What do you get?"

He grinned. "Schokoladenshake."

"Every time?"

"Well, sometimes there's this chocolate cake that's really good, so I get that. But I didn't see it in the pastry case, so I guess it's a shake for me."

"What does your brother get?" Libby asked. "Tell me all the family favorites. I want to know what's good."

"He gets the pecan pie, just like Lee. My mom always gets apple pie." Amanda said she had simple tastes, but since she'd met Lee — and Phillip knew they'd known each other long before they'd ever dated — she'd started eating different things, and now she dipped her fries in mayo.

Like Libby was doing now, he realized.

Well that was weird.

He must have been staring, because she held out a mayo-covered fry to him. "Try it," she said, "it's good."

He was about to shake his head, then felt silly and took it from her. He'd tried it once, when Amanda had first started eating it, and thought it was the worst way to eat fries — even worse than with gravy. But now he bit into the potato and chewed thoughtfully, and found himself enjoying it.

"Right?" Libby asked, expectantly.

He swallowed, nodding. "Yeah. Good. I'm still sticking with ketchup tonight, though."

Libby grinned and rolled her eyes. "I used to think it was gross. My dad eats them this way."

"My mom does, too. She had them in Belgium once and now it's her favorite."

Libby was quiet for a minute, looking around the room. "Is that your grandmother's boyfriend?"

Phillip tried to look over at Dotty without turning his head. The man she was sitting with was definitely older than her by a few years. He had gray hair that looked a little wild but he was wearing an expensive suit, the kind Lee wore to work sometimes, only without a tie, and the collar of his crisp blue shirt was open at the neck. "I don't know."

"He looks nice," Libby said. "He looks rich."

"I'm sure he's not rich. Why would a rich person come here?"

Libby shrugged. "Shakes?"

Phillip laughed. "Maybe." He glanced over at Dotty's table again. She was deep in conversation with the man across the table, leaning toward him as he told a story. Phillip could see her face in profile and he knew she was enjoying herself. She was about to laugh again, her hand on the man's forearm. "Maybe Grandma having a rich boyfriend wouldn't be so bad."

Libby's eyes grew wide and she nodded. "I'm sure not. I mean, assuming he liked you." She kicked him gently under the table. "We should go say hello."

"Aw, Libby." He sighed. "On our way out, okay?"

"Okay." She nodded. She wiped her hands on her napkin and pushed her plate away, just as Brenda approached their table. Phillip caught her eye and saw a gleam there, and a moment later he added 'German' to the list of languages Brenda spoke.

Dotty and her companion were still working on their entrees when Phillip and Libby stopped at their table. Dotty looked up at her grandson when he touched her shoulder, her face warming with the bright smile she wore whenever she first saw him. "I didn't expect you to come over here," she said, catching his hand.

"We just wanted to say thank you for dessert," Phillip said.

"And to say hello," Libby said, nudging him and prompting a flurry of introductions between the four. Jack, the man sitting with Dotty, seemed relaxed and cheerful — just the kind of person Dotty should be with, Phillip thought. Kind of like his grandfather had been, though his hazy memories had been reduced to cigar smoke and a big laugh.

"We'd better be going," Phillip said after a moment. "We're supposed to meet some friends at the bowling alley."

"Of course," Dotty said, waving them on. "Go. I'll see you on Sunday, at dinner."

"Not at the meet?" Libby asked. The team had a big one the next afternoon. Phillip was trying not to think about it because he had a feeling he wasn't going to win his race, no matter what his mother said.

"I'll be away this time," Dotty said, looking at Jack, "but I'll come to the next one and cheer you on, too."

In the parking lot Libby nudged him. "That is definitely your grandma's boyfriend," she said.

"I guess."

"I think it's nice."

"Yeah." They stood awkwardly for a minute, not looking at each other. "I'm sorry she kind of crashed our date."

"She didn't really," Libby said. "That dessert was amazing, And you're super cute when your grandma kisses your cheek."

Phillip groaned. "Libby."

"What? It's adorable." She gave him a playful shove, suddenly. "Come on, they're waiting at the bowling alley." She moved to where they'd locked up their bikes, on the fence at the edge of the parking lot. "And you know I'm going to beat you."

He did, but there was no way he was going to admit it. "Dream on," he said, spinning his combination lock.

"No need to dream. It's the real deal," she said, already on her bike and riding on a slow circle. "In fact, I'm so certain, I'll bet you a chocolate shake."