As much as my questions are probably annoying him, I can remember what it was like to be twelve. All I wanted was for someone to be interested in who I was, even if they were faking interest. If his life is anything like mine was, he’s gone twelve years being ignored, and I refuse to allow him to feel that way under my roof. But I’ve only been asking him safe questions. I’ll ease into the more difficult stuff.

Josh eats one thing at a time. A biscuit first, then bacon. He’s cutting into the pancakes for the first time when I say, “What are you interested in? Any hobbies?”

He takes a bite, and one of his eyebrows raises a bit, but I don’t know if it’s because of the food or my question. “Why?”

“Why am I asking you what you’re interested in?”

His neck is stiff when he nods.

“I’ve missed twelve years of your life. I want to know who you are.”

Josh breaks eye contact and forks more pancakes into his mouth. “Manga,” he mutters.

That surprises me. But thanks to Theo, I actually know what manga is. “What’s your favorite series?”

“One Piece.” He shakes his head, erasing that answer. “No, Chainsaw Man is probably my favorite.”

That’s about as far into that conversation as I can go without sounding ignorant. “We can go to a bookstore later today if you want.”

He nods. “These are good pancakes.”

“Thanks.”

I watch him take a drink of his juice, and when he sets the glass down, he says, “What are you interested in?” He nods toward the plate. “Other than cooking.”

I don’t know how to answer that. Most of my time is given to my restaurants. Whatever time I have left over is spent on house repairs, laundry, sleep. “I like the Cooking Channel.”

Josh chuckles. “That’s sad.”

“Why?”

“I said besides cooking.”

It’s a harder question than I thought, now that it’s being thrown back at me. “I like museums,” I say. “And going to the movies. And traveling. I just don’t do any of those things.”

“Because you’re always working?”

“Yeah.”

“Like I said. Sad.” He leans over his plate to catch another bite of pancake.

The get-to-know-you questions are backfiring, so I cut right to the chase. “What was your fight about?”

He shrugs. “Half the time I don’t even know what the hell I do wrong. She just gets mad for no reason.”

I can relate to that. I let him eat for a while before I pose another question. “Where have you been staying?”

Josh doesn’t look at me. He scoots food around on his plate for a moment, and then says, “Your restaurant.” His eyes slowly journey back over to mine. “You have a really comfortable couch in your office.”

“You’ve been sleeping inside the restaurant? For how long?”

“Two weeks.”

I’m in shock. “How have you been getting in?”

“You don’t have an alarm at that one restaurant, and I finally figured out how to pick the lock after a few tries. Your other restaurant was too hard to get into, though.”