I knew Tor liked his food. When we were at the castle, the meals were sumptuous, there was always dessert and his portions were manly.
But when our cart in the grocery store was filled to the point we needed another one, I felt the need to intervene.
“Tor, this is a lot of food.”
“Indeed,” he said, studying a bag of spiral pasta.
“We have no way of knowing how long you’re going to be in this world and it’ll take me a year to eat all of this,” I pointed out and his eyes sliced to me.
“If I go back, you’ll be coming with me,” he declared.
“We don’t know that,” I replied.
“If I go back, you’ll be coming with me,” he repeated, more firmly this time and with his face set hard.
I didn’t want to have an incident in the grocery store, which, by the set look on his face, I was pretty sure we would have if I told him that firstly, he couldn’t know that and secondly, I didn’t want to go back with him, not anymore.
So instead, I said, “Okay.”
He scowled at me then threw the pasta in the cart.
I rushed to get another one.
We loaded the car full to bursting with our grocery purchases and on the way home, my cell rang. The display said, “Noc.”
“Excellent, your gadget is sounding,” Tor noted.
“Not excellent, Tor!” I cried, holding it out to show him the display, thankful we were stopped at a red light. “It’s Noc!”
His eyes slid to the display then to me. “Noc?”
“The other you!” I exclaimed.
“Is it necessary for you to answer it?” he asked logically.
“Uh… no.”
“Then don’t answer it.”
Good advice.
It quit ringing but binged a few seconds later, telling me I had a voicemail.
I flipped it open in order to listen to the voicemail.
“What are you doing?” Tor asked, executing a perfect left hand turn.
“Listening to voicemail,” I told him.
“To what?”
“Sh!” I hissed. “He’s left a message.”
“Cory,” Noc said in my ear, “I’m standing in your apartment and you’re not here. What the f**k is goin’ on? I got shit to do. I’ll be back tonight. You get this, call me.” The last was growled.
Noc was not happy.
Oh dear.