“Hey, Addy.”
I looked over from the kitchen. “What?”
He lounged on the couch in his boxers with a newspaper opened on his lap. Frankie ran to him, wagging his tail, and Liam’s free hand petted him. “What’s an eleven-letter word for requiem?”
“Are you joking? How am I supposed to know that?”
“Wait. Lamentation!” He gestured to his laptop. “The good ol’ world wide web.”
Then everything switched, and he gazed at me, somber all of the sudden. “You know,” he said, “we don’t talk about that stuff, but I don’t want you to do that for me.”
My stomach got a funny feeling. “I don’t like where this is going. You want pizza tonight?” I picked up the phone. “I’ll order it.”
“I mean it. If something happens to me, don’t waste your life. I mean, yeah, be sad. Be really sad. Look at me.” He gesture
