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“Yeah.”

He walked in.

“Ain’t you coming?”

He scoffed.

“I wasn’t invited.”

I frowned.

“Well, you’re invited.”

“Now.”

“Boy, shut up.” I went back to my list. “I know our place is small, but it’s room for you.”

Levin looked around the kitchen.

Then toward the ceiling when another thump came from upstairs.

“Clearly.”

I laughed.

“Don’t do my house.”

He chuckled.

Then leaned against the counter.

“Why don’t y’all have it at my house?”

I looked at him.

“Your house?”

He shrugged.

“I got the space.”

I put my pen down.

“You want everybody at your house for Thanksgiving?”

“Why not?”

“Because you don’t even seem like you like people.”

“I don’t.”

I laughed.

“Then why the fuck would you offer?”

He shrugged again.

“Enough room for the kids to run around. You ain’t gotta feel crowded. Everybody can eat without somebody sitting on the stairs holding a plate.”