Week two, and he's here again

Tyson turned up with groceries I didn't ask for and put them away in the wrong cupboards, which he knows are the wrong cupboards, because that has been the joke since we were nineteen.

Twenty years of him and I have never once had to explain myself. He doesn't ask how I am. He asks what I've eaten. Then he sits there until I have.

He didn't mention Josh. He won't, unless I do. That is the entire arrangement and I don't know how he learned it, because nobody taught either of us anything useful about this.