Jordan chased me out of the kitchen area when my hand shook holding the kitchen knife while I was trying to help him make dinner.
He put me on a barstool on the far side of the peninsula of countertop that delineated where kitchen ended and living room began. He was wearing goggles over his eyes at the time so he could chop onions and with his very short cropped hair it gave him a very insectoid look. He handed me a cup of herbal tea. “Talking with Ziggy upset you that much?”