Page 92 of A Matter of Time

“You moved all my shit around.”

“The way you had it set up made no sense,” I explained, getting out the small chopping board I had picked up at Crate and Barrel, along with a paring knife.

“I don’t care how you think I should⁠—”

“Pots and pans go next to the stove because you cook with them,” I said, educating him. “Tupperware goes next to the fridge ’cause once it’s filled, that’s where it goes. Everything has a place, but apparently you never got that memo.”

“What are you doing?”

It was obvious that I was cutting up a lemon. “Am I really expected to answer that?”

He made a noise and muttered under his breath that his sister was not staying.

“Oh no?”

“No,” he assured me, his voice rising again.

I smiled lazily and finished cutting the lemon into quarters before getting out the teapot and filling the holder with leaves.

“What are you wearing?” he asked out of the blue.

I stopped and looked down at my jeans before I looked back at him. “I was wearing these when you left.”

“You were?”

“Yeah.” I chuckled.

“You don’t wear those things out, do ya?”

My jeans were faded, almost white, old and threadbare with more holes than fabric, but they fit like a soft second skin. “Sure,” I teased him, lying.

“You know, you should really be more careful of me. I could hurt you when she leaves.”

“Is that a promise?” I smiled at him, arching a brow for his benefit.

“Come here.”

And I would have if his sister’s voice hadn’t stopped me.

“Sammy.”

We both turned to her as she leaned on the counter.

“I just⁠—”

“Tell me something.” Sam sighed deeply, raking his hands through his hair. “Tell me this is new, tell me this is the first fuckin’ time, and please tell me I haven’t been sleeping on the same sheets you guys have been fuckin’ on for, like, months now.”

I saw the guy standing in the background. He was unsure whether to go or stay.

“Sam, we⁠—”

“You have kids, Jen,” he told his sister, his voice hollow. “So do you, Kurt,” he barked, looking at her lover. “What the fuck?”

“Sammy, we—” his sister began.

“Jesus Christ, Jen, you need to⁠—”

“Can you reach those for me?” I interrupted him.