When Wash draws attention to himself, calling out like that, Maine sees it for what it is. He knows Wash well enough. Feels when eyes shift from him to Wash, instead, taking some of the unspoken pressure away.

It's unnecessary. Maine can handle people staring. He was a big kid who grew into an even bigger man. He's used to it. And besides, people are less inclined to stare when Maine stares right back.

So, it's unnecessary. But that doesn't mean Maine doesn't appreciate it.

There are no chairs around, so he scoots himself toward a wall. When Wash turns around, he'll find Maine leaning back against it, having automatically moved himself out of the main thoroughfare. Maine doesn't like people edging around him. Likes it even less when they brush against him, like they somehow didn't realize he's as big as he is. Moving to a wall makes it less annoying in the long run.

He tips his head to the side, thinking. "Like cheesecake?" he ventures.

Yeah, he's never had strawberry shortcake.