His cheeks were chapped, but otherwise he was bright-eyed and full of beans. All at once, in the course of a week it seemed, his meaningless gabble had turned into a slew of words; he would imitate almost anything you said. What Ellie wanted him to say was “shit.” “Say shit, Gage,” Ellie said over her oatmeal. “Shit-Gage,” Gage responded agreeably over his own cereal. Louis allowed the cereal on condition that Gage eat it with only a little sugar. And, as usual, Gage seemed to be shampooing with it rather than actually eating it. Ellie dissolved into giggles. “Say farts, Gage,” she said. “Farz-Gage,” Gage said, grinning through the oatmeal spread across his face. “Farz-n-shit.” Ellie and Louis broke up. It was impossible not to. Rachel was not so amused. “That’s enough vulgar talk for one morning, I think,” she said, handing Louis his eggs. “Shit-n-farz-n-farz-n-shit,” Gage sang cheerily, and Ellie hid her giggles in her hands. Rachel’s mouth twitched a little, and Louis thought she was looking a hundred percent better in spite of her broken rest.
