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“What?” she asked.

I realized I’d been staring for too long.

“Nothing.”

She rolled her eyes and wiped away the mascara as she looked into a compact she’d unearthed from her purse. “You’re very broody.”

“I’m not broody.”

“You own a record store and listen to The Smiths alone upstairs in your apartment.”

The burgers arrived before I could why she thought I was broody.

They were terrible. The buns were slightly stale and the fries tasted like they’d been frozen and cooked in old oil, Lorrie ate almost all of hers anyway.

“Hungry?” I pointed at the few remaining fries and laughed as she stole one of my fries.

“Yours taste better.”

“They came out of the same fryer.”

She did that. Stole fries, cherries, and the corner of whatever dessert someone else had ordered. I knew that about her, along with the fact that she hated coffee once it went lukewarm, preferred the window down even when it tangled her hair, read liner notes before listening to an album, and always opened a record sleeve carefully at the top instead of tearing at the side.

I knew she talked to Otis when she thought no one was listening. There were worse foundations for a relationship. The thought made me look away.

By the time we left, the rain had weakened to a steady drizzle. We drove back toward Madison with the windows cracked, Lorrie’s hair drying into loose waves around her face.

I told her about a small club space near East Washington that might start hosting regional bands, and how Side A could possibly sell tickets or records there if the owner agreed.

“You should do it,” she said.

“I’m going to look at the place in a few days.”

“Take Brian.”

“Why would I punish myself?”

She smiled. “I could go.”

I kept my eyes on the road. “You could.”

“What kind of bands would play there?”

“Whatever we can get. Minneapolis stuff. Madison bands. Maybe some Chicago acts if the space works.”

“You’d need better distribution.”

“That’s where Twin/Tone comes in.”

She looked out the windshield. “You could make Side A bigger without turning it into something too corporate.”

I glanced at her.

“That’s the idea.”

She nodded as if she could already see it, and something about that pleased me more than it should’ve.

“Daddy knows someone who owns commercial property near University,” she said. “If you ever wanted a bigger space, he could probably tell you who to talk to.”