"Especially in a small space. Every inch matters." I placed the mug with the others I'd already gathered, lining them up on the counter. "If you group items by frequency of use, you save time and movement. Coffee mugs should be near the coffee maker. Plates should be near the dishwasher. It's basic ergonomics."
"Or I could just reach wherever and grab what I need."
"That's what you've been doing. And you've been wasting approximately—" I calculated quickly "—thirty seconds per meal on unnecessary movement."
"Thirty seconds."
"It adds up."
He stared at me for a long moment, then shook his head and turned back to the TV. "Reorganize whatever you want. Just don't touch my beer fridge."
"You have a beer fridge?"
"Bottom shelf of the regular fridge. That's the beer fridge."
"That's not a fridge, that's a shelf."
"It's a fridge within a fridge. Beer fridge."
I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it. Some battles weren't worth fighting.
The mugs were definitely getting reorganized.
The peace lasted until I started thinking about what came next.
At some point, the media frenzy would die down. The Langfords would stop looking, and I'd have to figure out what came next.
The problem was, whenever I pictured "after," Vance was always there.
Making coffee in the morning, squinting at the machine like it might betray him. Watching TV in the evening, his feet propped on the coffee table. Teaching me to cook, his voice low and patient.
I didn't know what that meant. Didn't know if it meant anything at all.
"You're staring."
I blinked. Vance was looking at me, one eyebrow raised.
"Sorry. Just thinking."
"About?"
You."Whether I should reorganize your bookshelf next."
"Don't you dare."
"It's alphabetized by nothing. Not author, title, or genre—"
"It's alphabetized by when I bought them."
"That's not alphabetizing. That's just... chronological chaos."
"It works for me."
"Does it? When was the last time you found a book without searching three shelves?"
He opened his mouth, then closed it. I'd scored a point.
"Fine," he said. "But if you touch my books, you're cooking for a week."
