She shut the door. Didn't lock it, she never locked the door when she was home. Wasn't worth the effort, anyone coming through that door was either someone she'd like to see or would be a new wall coating moments later.

Went to the kitchen and hauled out booze and juice. Cheese, salami type meats, olives, cherries, things like that. Picky foods. Things he could fidget with. They were summarily slid onto the counter.

"You could," she said slowly, "If that's the bullshit you want to spread, you could. You'd have to make the story good and thick for me to buy it because I was here this summer too, most of it. And if you want me to believe the bullshit, I could probably pretend to do that too. If that's what you need me to do, I could probably do it. But that might not be the best thing for you to want me to do."