Hopper has his back to the Harringtons in the booth behind him so he can’t see Richard’s face when he says, “Steven, stop messing with my wallet.”
“I’m not,” Steve says. “I’m putting my school picture in this little pocket. See?”
There’s a pause and then Steve adds, “Grandpa Otis put my picture in his wallet. I sent him and Nonna one in the mail, and he called me and said he put it in his wallet.”
“He said I was very handsome,” He continues undeterred by the lack of response. “He says I must get my good looks from Mama.”
“Steve, I don’t want a picture of you in my wallet.”
“Why not?” He asks. “What will you look at when you miss me?”
Hopper hears Richard sigh deeply and the rustle of his newspaper before he says, “You know what my job is?”
“I’m a defense attorney,” Richard says. “That means that sometimes my clients can be dangerous people.”
“But - but they’re the good guys?”
“They’re innocent,” Richard revises. “That doesn’t mean they’re good. That’s a childish view of the world, Steven.”
“Now what if one of those dangerous people see my wallet and they don’t like my service?” He continues lecturing. “What if they want to take that out on my family? Do you want them to know what you look like? That’s why I don’t want that picture on there.”
Hopper pauses mid-bite and doesn’t move again until Steve talks, “…are bad people going to come to our house?”
“Hey, kid,” Powell, sitting across the Hopper, calls over before Richard can reply. “No one is going to come to your house and if you do, you give me a call. Alright?”
Hopper turns in his seat to see behind him just as Angela was walking back to the table. She caught the tail end of that conversation and asks, “A call for what?”
“Dad says bad men are gonna come to our house and kill us.”
If looks could kill, Angela would be on trial when she turns to her husband, “What the hell is wrong with you?”
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