“Jesus, are you expecting company?” Oswald reaches in and grabs a few bags.
“I was hungry, and I just kept adding stuff to the cart. Before I knew it…this,” I confess, waving at the full trunk.
“Don’t you know that you can’t go shopping for food when you’re hungry?” Oswald tells me.
“We’ve got this.” Gravlin nudges me out of the way using his body. “You open the door.” I listen without hesitation, and they are fast on my heels. Within minutes, the kitchen island is covered in plastic bags all overflowing with food.
“Are you using any of this today or tomorrow, or do you want all the meat in the freezer?” Gravlin starts digging through the bags.
“I’ll keep the chicken out.”
“Which one?” Oswald chuckles, holding up three packages of chicken breasts.
“What are you going to make?” Gravlin starts sorting the rest of the meat and taking a pile to the freezer.
A bubble of laughter escapes me. “Not sure yet.”
“Memphis makes this amazing sticky chicken stuff,” Oswald offers.
I look over at Memphis. It’s going to be hard not to slip up and call him Gravlin since that’s what he’s been in my head for a few days now. “I can teach you,” he offers as he lines up a few jars and cans. “We would need some honey though.”
“I have honey. I like it on my toast. What else?” I’m very intrigued by the idea of him cooking, and his offer to teach me makes it impossible to deny, even when I know I shouldn’t have even let them in my house after what happened the other day.
“Soy sauce, cornstarch, and rice. Sesame seeds are good but not required.”
“I don’t have cornstarch.” I pick up my phone and pull up the store we just left. It would probably be faster to go back myself, but I don’t want to.
“I can go grab it,” Oswald offers.
“No, it’s okay, I’ll order it.” I type cornstarch into the search bar and hit enter. The end of my phone tips away when Oswald pushes it down.
“I’ll run back, it will be faster and cheaper.”
“Okay, are you sure there isn’t anything else we need?” I look over at Gravlin. I kind of hope he goes with Oswald, because having both of them here is easier to deal with than just one, though I don’t know why.
“How much rice do you have? He’s carb loading.” He doesn’t even look in Oswald’s direction, he just continues to put all my groceries away.
I put my phone down and get busy helping so I can show him exactly what I have.
Before Oswald leaves, alone, he has a list. Apparently, I didn’t have enough honey or rice, and we added some vegetables to serve with the chicken since he had to go to the store anyway.
Once the door closes, the silence feels heavy. “Thanks for doing all that.” I motion to the kitchen.
“You’re welcome.” He looks around. “How long have you lived here?”
“A little over a week.” I close the pantry door.
“Wow, I never would have guessed, everything is…settled. Like you’ve been here a long time.”
I don’t tell him the movers and stagers did all the work. I just picked a bunch of stuff out. Instead, I offer, “Did you want to look around?”
“Sure, what’s your favorite room?” He catches me off guard with his question.
“Um…the sunroom, my bedroom.” I shrug, telling the truth.
“Is this the sunroom?” He motions to the open entryway off the kitchen.
“Yeah.” I duck past him and enter the room. It’s not a traditional sunroom, there’s far too much wood paneling for that. It’s almost like a study with lots of windows, but I call it a sunroom anyway.
