“Your turn,” Frank said with his mouth full. By the time it was over, both grown men looked more like highchair toddlers captured with a brand new Polaroid after their first try at feeding themselves. Frank’s too-soft bread had split. The spaghetti filling had plopped right onto his chest. Liam had torn his sandwich apart purposely then. Both laughed and ate spaghetti off their laps with their hands. Marion would have beaten them silly with the Sunday newspaper had she been there, as the “normal” one was no cleaner than the one supposedly regressed. Liam wasn’t slow, though. Not at all. His verbal skills might have still been lacking, but he was a normal adult man in every other way. He was a silly, unconstrained one who wore his heart on his sleeve, but he was a man, just as Vaughn had said. Frank was some of those things as well, and envied the characteristics in Liam missing in him.