Thomas walked right past me into the kitchen and set the paper bags on the laminate counter.

He didn’t look at me.

He stared hard at the digital clock on the microwave.

“The grocery store had a sale on that honey oat cereal Emma likes,” Thomas said.

He started taking things out of the bags.

He unpacked a plastic gallon of whole milk.

He set out a carton of two dozen large white eggs.

He lined up three boxes of dry pasta beside a heavy glass jar of marinara sauce.