Chapter 2

Theo was still looking at Mara's bent suitcase handle when he pointed down the hall. "That room gets the morning sun. Take it."

"Thank you." She picked up the case.

"I didn't say I was happy about it."

"I didn't ask you to be."

Mara went into the room before he could take the offer back. The window faced a quiet stretch of garden. She set down her clothes, then left him alone. If she followed him around on the first afternoon, he'd spend all three months trying to shake her off.

Theo shut himself in his room. When he came out, daylight was fading. He found Mara on the couch with a glass of water and checked the time on his phone.

"You slept until four," she said.

"I work late."

"I didn't ask."

Theo went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. He stood there long enough for cold air to spill across the floor.

"Where's the food?"

"In the fridge you're looking at."

"I meant lunch."

"It's four."

He took out his phone. A moment later he muttered, "She canceled it?"

"Who?"

"The woman who usually cooks. Mom told her not to come." His eyes narrowed. "You knew about this?"

"No." Mara set down her glass. "Are you hungry?"

"I can feed myself."

He found a packet of pasta and set a pot on the stove. Mara stayed where she was. He'd insisted he could manage; she could let him try.

A bowl slipped from his hand and broke against the counter. Theo stared at the pieces, then reached for another. He put an empty pan over the flame and turned it too high. A minute later the bottom of the pan smelled hot enough to make Mara stand.

"Turn it down," she called.

"I'm doing it."

He tipped oil into the pan. It smoked at once. Theo jerked back, caught the edge of the counter and knocked his second bowl to the floor.

Mara crossed the room and shut off the burner. She moved the pan aside by its handle and waited for the smoke to thin.

"You were about to burn the kitchen down."

"It was one pan."

"And two bowls."

Theo looked at the broken pieces, then at the cold burner. "I know how to turn on a stove."

"I saw. It's turning it off at the right time that needs practice."

"Stop talking to me like that."

"Like what?" Mara kept her face straight. "You tried your very first dinner. That's a big step."

"It wasn't my first dinner."

"The first one you tried to cook, then."

He had no answer. The tips of his ears went red. Mara glanced at them and realized he was far easier to fluster than the man who'd tried to throw her out that morning.

"I'm not a child," he said.

"Then don't make me turn off the stove for you."

He opened his mouth again. Mara waited, wondering how long it would take before he admitted he was hungry.