They hadn’t even reached the kitchen when Jodie shouted “Mitch, can you put these away? I gotta hit the bathroom!”, then proceeded to rush up the stairs.
“So…” Mitch wracked his brain to make conversation while they both emptied out their respective bags. Truth be told, Jodie’s accusation about him not having manners wasn’t entirely unfounded; he wasn’t intentionally rude, but idle chatter didn’t come naturally for him. It made him seem obtuse, and perhaps the time arrived to improve upon that.
And at the very least, he didn’t leave his groceries for other people to put away.
He pulled out a pair of colorful number shaped candles, examined them, then cleared his throat. “You settling in alright?”
“Yeah, actually!” Avi looked up from one of his totes with a package in his hand, and a language written on it that Mitch didn’t recognize. “Kind of reminds me of a boarding house that I stayed at in Japan.”
Mitch froze, unsure how to follow along. The most recent years of his life were spent around Calvin’s WASP friends and being forced to hear about their ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ inspired journeys. Reflexively, his walls went up and he was ready to feign indifference altogether; but Avi didn’t expand any further, just quietly poked around the cabinets in a bid to gain familiarity with the kitchen’s layout. And Mitch was more interested about a wrestler’s career path than a Manhattan socialite’s slum tour through Mumbai. He could do this. “How long were you in Japan for?” he asked to follow up.
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“A little over three years.” After glancing over a few magnets and photographs on the fridge door, Avi opened it and slid a few cartons inside. He rummaged for a bit, then paused and turned to Mitch. “Any chance I could get a hand here?”
“Sure. With what?” Mitch abandoned the plastic grocery bag he that he worked through and wandered over. Avi had moved to the side, allowing Mitch to peer into the fridge. The total lack of organization eluded him. An empty pizza box sat on top of old moldy Tupperware containers that were haphazardly strewn about. Mitch indiscriminately yanked them out, and dropped the collection of filth into the trashbin. “Sorry, this is. Wow.”
“It’s cool,” Avi insisted, waving his hand dismissively. “Just didn’t want to misplace anything.”
“I mean, four people under one roof, guess it’s bound to happen.” No wait, he didn’t want to incriminate himself, he had no participation in this other than an abandoned container of fried rice. “Not that I’ve uh, really been in here lately.”
“What, the kitchen?”
“Yeah, I dunno. Not much of an appetite these days?” He regretted answering honestly when Avi gave him a quizzical glance. Squirming in place, he further explained, “It’ll come back. Soon, hopefully. I’m just…dealing with some stuff.” Not that he owed an explanation to anyone. He already lied to Jodie about eating numerous time, and which she started calling him out on.
“Your shoulder’s not gonna recover well if you don’t eat,” Avi advised, and Mitch bristled at this unsolicited statement. He nearly blurted out that his shoulder wasn’t the reason why he hadn’t eaten in a week, but refrained. Because no one, especially not someone that he just met, needed to be burdened with his bullshit.
Instead, he let out an indifferent, “Oh. Right.”