Zoe

I was humming along to a song on the TV, singing the parts that I knew, when I realized Howard was standing at the kitchen doorway just staring at me, and I stopped.

“Don’t stop,” he said, laughing. “You have a nice voice.”

I grimaced. “If you think so, you’re probably tone deaf.”

“Well, dinner’s ready, so you can come and eat. Or would you rather I bring it here?”

“No, that’s fine.” I jumped up, taking the remote to turn the volume up on the music, then walking over to Howard, following the nice smell coming from the kitchen I’d only just noticed. “What did you make? It smells delicious.”

“I thought something simple would be best. We’re having baked chicken with stuffed baked potatoes. I cut up the chicken into strips, so you can just set the table. Do you have barbecue sauce? I like to have something to dip it in.”

“Sure.”

I got some plates and cutlery and transferred them to the table. Howard brought everything over and set them in the middle. I took several strips of chicken and a