It is now!

[It has not even dawned on him once that Sunny’s “You think we can take it with us?” was not, perhaps, a request to do just that.

[Anyway, they’re not bringing these drinks. Milk. Kel fishes crumpled receipt and pencil stub out of his pocket, writes a note for the original vendor on it, and slaps it on the table. Sorry, man; your substitute is at another stall.

[He brushes his hands, swings around to Sunny’s side, and offers an arm for hooking.] See anything you like out there, Sunshine?