“Hey, neighbor,” Ward greeted as he pushed through the door I cracked open. He kept going, carrying whatever into the kitchen. I followed, watching speechlessly as he opened my cupboards and pulled out plates and utensils. “You watch our show last night?” When I didn’t answer, he turned. “Mac.” “What?” I gave my head a little shake. “What’re you doing?” “Plating up dinner. Greek chicken.” I should’ve argued. He didn’t need to bring me food every night. I had a perfectly acceptable frozen dinner that I could microwave, no actual cooking necessary. He especially didn’t need to waste his night
...more
