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Dave snuck around Max and got a cider out of the fridge. He peeked over Max’s shoulder into the pan on the stove. “That looks good.”
“Obviously,” Max replied. “Go sit down.”
Dave slid onto a stool at the breakfast bar where Max had set placemats and silverware.
A moment later, Max set a plate filled with chicken, mushrooms, and cheese in front of him.
“Mushroom Asiago Chicken,” Max declared triumphantly. “Gluten free, obvi.”
Dave smirked. “Obvi.” He took a bite and dropped his head back in bliss. “Oh wow.”
“Good?” Max asked, sitting down on the stool beside him.
“Like you have to ask.”
Max shrugged. “Still nice to hear.”
“I know getting diagnosed celiac really sucked at the time, but it has been a huge benefit to me.” Dave took another bite and was again transported to a world where nothing else existed but cheese and his taste buds.
“You’re not wrong,” Max agreed. “You would’ve starved to death years ago without me.”
Dave chuckled. “I’m not completely incompetent.”
“No. You’d just be subsisting on frozen pizza and cereal.” Max shook his head like the idea was appalling.
“I do that anyway when you’re not here.” Dave decided to razz him just a little. “I like cereal.”
“Don’t I know it. I took the recycling out when I got here.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I’m going to make a ‘this is what done looks like’ list for you before I leave.”
“Oh, that’d be great.”
A “this is what done looks like” list was one part photo album, one part chore list, and one part checklist. Dave tended to avoid doing what others might consider automatic. He couldn’t picture what “finished” looked like in his head, and then the task would quickly become overwhelming. Which led to a lot of avoidance.
Having a list gave him a clear idea of what he needed to accomplish, thereby making regular daily tasks doable. Instead of terrifying.
“What happened to your previous list?” Max shook his head. “Never mind. I’m sure it was destroyed in the fire.”
Dave didn’t really know for sure. He hadn’t gone back yet. The house had been cleared for him to return to gather his belongings. And he would. Eventually.
But he was putting it off for as long as he could get away with it.
“Did you talk to Curtis and Gloria today?”
“Yep. Told them I wasn’t at the hockey game.” Dave took a drink of his cider. “But they said they’d already figured that out when they tracked my cell. I forgot I had turned on Find My Friends with Curtis.”
Max made a face. “That sounds invasive.”
“Sometimes it’s just easier than having to answer my phone all the time. You know how much I hate being taken out of the moment.” Some moments, like last night, he wanted to stay in it.
He needed to text Sabine.
He should’ve texted her already. He kept forgetting. Was it too late to text now? Had he missed the window?
“Did they catch the guy from last night?” Max asked, pulling him back to the present.
“I have no idea. That’s not my department.”
They talked throughout their meal, resting easy in each other’s company.
