Why? Why did seniors want to eat dinner at four in the afternoon? It made no sense. Maybe he’d figure it out when he was sixty-five or so, Andy conceded. There had once been a time in his life when naps were undesirable, after all, and he couldn’t imagine turning one down now. Andy rang up the last of the early “rush”—not that any rushing was involved with that bunch—and then waved to Kat to let her know the floor was hers.
He ducked back into the kitchen. “Billie’s dinner ready yet?” he asked Jason. She usually ate early, in the dip between the senior rush and the normal dinner crowds that started around five-thirty or six.
Jason glanced up at him, surprised. “She hasn’t told me what she wants today,” he said.
Andy snorted. “All that ice cream filled her up I guess. Wouldn’t be surpris
