A "talk," if you can call it that

Okay, so Beef's pretty new to this "talking to others about what's on your mind" thing. We were having some lemonade in the back yard today and I casually brought up the other night when he stormed out of the house for no apparent reason--for six hours--and it went kind of like this:

MOLLY: So what was happening the other night?

BEEF: Oh uh you mean did I do something in my sleep such as a crass thing

M: No, the other night when you left without saying anything.

B: ...

M: Sunday, when you left all night without saying anything. Were you okay?

B: [looks over fence, then into tree] This tree ought to have more lemons at this point

M: Beef, come on. I was worried about you.

B: You ain't got to worry about me not at all

M: Come on, Beef. You can't do that to people.

B: [suddenly impatient] alright alright alright enough already

M: What?

B: What what what enough already, jesus

M: I was just worried about you, that's all.

B: Well hell and hooray look at me I worry people


That's about where it ended, kind of uncomfortably. He got up a few seconds later and watered some basil plants that had wilted pretty bad in the sun, then we went inside to watch Blowout, that reality show about the Beverly Hills hair salon. Things are still tense, I can tell we're both brooding over this now-unmentionable issue. He knows it's still on my mind, he's not stupid.