"I brought cookies," he says in partial answer as he heads up the stairs. "I picked them up and thought... that they'd make a good excuse?"

The problem with never bothering to lie means he has no practice when maybe a lie might not be a bad idea.

"But they're only a good excuse if you're not busy. If you are, I can go." Now that he's here, he's nervous. He's never had a lot to do with older people - his father hadn't been cruel but he hadn't spent time with the kids, his mother had always been busy with the younger ones, they'd been on the outside of that village. But right now he's a little lost and Lance knows a larger portion of that than nearly anyone else.