“Of course.” He retrieved them from a cupboard and set them on the cramped counter so I could dish us up.
Of course, there was nothing as civilized as a pizza cutter in the clutter of old utensils in the drawer, but I did find a fairly sharp knife shoved toward the back and used that to saw the pizza into more or less equal slices. After this operation, we collected our plates and our wine — Martin expertly grabbing both the bottle and his glass in his left hand — and went to sit in front of the fire.
Somehow, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to settle on the worn rug there as we used the end of the bed as a backrest, our feet stretching toward the hearth and the wonderful heat coming from it. We ate quietly, watching the flames, as the rain outside the window gradually shif
