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“Yeah.”

“You could’ve just said that.”

“I ain’t ask.”

“You came in my kitchen looking at the food. That’s asking.”

I turned back toward the stove.

Behind me, I heard him pull one of the chairs away from the table.

“Coffee too.”

I turned around.

“Now you pushing it.”

Levin leaned back in the chair like he lived there.

“Xay got coffee.”

“Xay is asleep.”

“Exactly.”

I stared at him.

He stared right back.

I sucked my teeth and reached for another plate.

“Your whole family get on my fucking nerves.”

“Yet you married into it.”

“Unfortunately.”

He laughed.

I smiled despite myself and turned back toward the stove, grabbing the pot of grits I had pushed to the back burner.

“So how is it adjusting?” I asked. “It’s been what? Six months now?”

I grabbed one of the bigger plates from the cabinet and started fixing his food.

Pancakes.

Eggs.

Bacon.

Then a nice scoop of grits on the side.

When I sat the plate down in front of him, Levin’s eyes got big.

“Wow.”

“What?”