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looked inside. “I guess I just reach inside and pull out some ashes?”
    Landry flipped his sketchbook shut and stood. “I don’t think there’s a rule or anything on how to do this.”
    “Right,” I muttered. I reached inside, closing my fingers around a sprinkle of ash, the silt slipping through my fingers. And then with a flourish my dad would have been proud of, I pulled out my hand and opened my fingers. A shower of ash sprinkled over the ground, mixing with the dirt that covered the cooled lava, which had blanketed the area decades ago.
    Dust to dust. Ashes to ashes.
    “I love you, Dad.”
    “I love you, Charlie.” Landry’s voice was soft behind me.
    I grabbed the urn and we walked back the way we came, bumping shoulders in silence.

Chapter Three
    By the time we made it back to Sally, we were both ravenous. I steered Sally back onto I-5 North and found a little café about forty-five minutes later.
    They had great coffee and every kind of grilled cheese you could want. We stood at the counter and I ordered mine with bacon and tomatoes while Landry chose sautéed onions.
    “You seriously ordered onions?” I said. “That’s not nice to me. Or Sally.”
    Landry huffed. “My farts smell like roses.”
    “Rotten roses.” I grumbled.
    He punched me in the shoulder.
    “What was that?” I darted my head around and batted my hand in the air. “I think there’s a fly. Did you feel that, Lan?”
    “Shut up, asshole.”
    The waitress handed us our plates and we found a corner booth. It was midafternoon, after the lunch rush, so we had the place mostly to ourselves except for two older women in the far corner. The sandwich was amazing. Buttery toasted bread that crunched when I bit into it and ooey-gooey cheese with crispy bacon and ripe tomatoes. I must have moaned because when I looked up, Landry was staring at me.
    “What?”
    “Um, you okay there?”
    “Huh?”
    “Pretty sure you just took that sandwich’s virginity.”
    I sputtered out a sip of coffee. “Lan!”
    “What! That was a pretty intense moment you had over there.”
    “Will you just eat?”
    “My sandwich doesn’t want to do it now. My sandwich said your sandwich told her it hurts.”
    “Oh my God, Lan.”
    He picked up his sandwich and took a huge bite. Strings of glistening, browned onions dripped out the sides. He fluttered his eyes and moaned like this was a porn shoot.
    “Lan, there are honest-to-God people in here. Cool it.”
    He widened his eyes in mock innocence. “I’m sorry. I just had to show my sandwich a good time so she’d tell all her sandwich friends how amazing I was.”
    “You’re on a roll today, aren’t you?”
    He shrugged. “I’m delirious from lack of caffeine.”
    “Well then, drink up.”
    Now that our sandwiches had been defiled, I found myself wondering whether Landry was a virgin. He’d had a couple of boyfriends, dated a couple of guys, and had gone to some clubs. But he never told me what he did, probably believing I’d be grossed out. I would have been grossed out to hear about him making out with other guys, but not for the reasons he thought.
    But he made sexual jokes all the time. He flirted with me, with our friends, everyone. That was Landry.
    He thought I had sex with my high school girlfriend and a couple of girls in college. The rumors abounded in high school and I never squashed them. I let the rumors continue in college. I hated it, but I didn’t have any other choice.
    The guys in high school and college used to joke that I was leading on my gay best friend. Because to them, I was straight. I drunkenly kissed girls at parties and grabbed an ass cheek or two and leered at cleavage. Like a good straight guy.
    But it was a part I played. My reality was my role as Landry’s anchor.
    And now that our sandwiches had done the nasty, I wondered if I was the only virgin sitting at the table.
    “You feel okay about today?” Landry asked, jerking me from my thoughts.
    I pushed some