I keep my head down and try to protect my pie with an elbow.

“We’re getting married in the fall, and there are so many things to decide. Bryce wants a destination wedding in Costa Rica, and I’d rather save the money and have a simple ceremony in my parents’ backyard.”

“That’s not a wedding, honey,” says Bryce. “That’s a barbecue.”

“And he wants me to take his last name.”

“Kalea Osbourne,” says Bryce. “It’s a great name.”

“But then all our children would be named Osbourne.”

That pretty much kills the conversation. There’s no way I’m going to be the first to say anything.

“Do you have children?” Kalea asks.

“Two,” says Mimi.

“How did you handle the last names?”

“Bull Shield,” says Mimi with no apology in her voice. “I did all the work.”

Bryce grunts. “Is that like an Indian tradition?”

“I like it,” says Kalea.

“So, you argued,” says Mimi, not one to be deterred by a grunt.

“We did,” says Kalea. “And then I got angry and left the restaurant in a rush, and that’s when I hit your husband with the door.”

“Don’t worry,” says Mimi. “He didn’t mind.”

“He was very kind to walk me back to the hotel.”

Mimi glares at Bryce. I’m used to her glares. Still, I feel my body tense.

“But after I got back, he apologized.” Kalea smiles across the table at Bryce. “And we made up.”

“Did we ever.”

“Bryce!”

“I’m going to the bathroom,” says Mimi. “You want to come?”

“Sure,” says Kalea.

Bryce and I sit at the table and try not to look at each other. “You know why women do that?”

“Go to the bathroom together?”

“Yeah.”

“Besides the obvious.”

“Is it so they can talk about us?”

“Probably.”

“You don’t mind your kids having her last name?”

This is not the first time I’ve been asked this question. “Bull Shield. It’s a good name. It has a long history among the Blackfoot.”

“But you’re Mathias.”

“Mavrias,” I say. “It’s my mother’s name.”

“Not your father’s?”

“Nope. My father’s name was Blackbird.”

“That’s your first name.”

“It is.”

“So, you have your mother’s last name, and your kids have their mother’s last name?” Bryce shakes his head. “My parents are never going to go for something like that. You got any advice?”

“On how to change Kalea’s mind?”

“Yeah,” says Bryce. “I really want to go to Costa Rica.”

BESIDES PIPES, A COUPLE of major art museums, the hotel where Chet Baker died, and the remarkable maze of canals, Amsterdam is known for its public brothels. De Wallen is the most famous of the red-light districts in the city, and after dinner at an Asian restaurant, Mimi decided that we needed to walk around the area.