And then he was scooting around her, out his front door. Mary heard him knock on the next door down and then the sound of his voice and another voice from the other side of the far wall. Thin walls in this building.

Mary looked longingly at the bathroom. She wanted nothing more than an icy shower and her pajamas and a place to rest her head. But she figured that she’d wait until after she’d eaten. She washed her hands and set out their dinner. She found only four place settings of dishes in his cupboard, all clean, though a little chipped. She set the table with two of them, folding paper towels neatly underneath the silverware. She fished two beers out of the fridge. There was a small, stubby candle in the drawer next to the bottle opener, so she lit it, setting it in the middle of the table. She wished there was a flower she could set out, but this would have to do. She smiled as Ruth twined around her feet, roughly rubbing her little furry face against Mary’s bare ankles.

He was right about the cross-breeze from the fans. The cool air felt heavenly and the white noise from the rushing breeze made Mary feel as if John’s home were safely tucked into a cloud, floating above Brooklyn, high above any intruders or ruined shops.

Oh, God. Her beautiful shop. All that waste. The meaningless destruction of something so beautiful.

She felt a crack deep within her and knew that her tears weren’t done. But she didn’t want to cry right now. She wanted food and rest. So she went to her knees and scooped Ruth onto her lap.

Ruth made an alarmingly loud sound that Mary supposed was a purr. She laughed and poked at Ruth’s flicking tail, scratched at her ears, absorbed the animal’s warm, weighted comfort.

The voices on the other side of the wall stopped, and a moment later, John was back through his front door. “Everything’s good over there. They said I can head over whenever you want to crash. I see that Ruth wasted no time in seducing you.” His lips softened into a half smile at the sight of Mary on the floor with his goofy cat. Then his gaze flicked to the table and the smile tightened back into his usual expression of lined consternation.

He cleared his throat. “Table looks nice.”

They sat down together, John filling up waters for them and cracking both beers open.

“What did you have to get figured out with the neighbors?” she asked.

“Oh. Just wanted to make sure I could sleep on their couch.”