"I lived in the Soviet Union for a few years," John confided. Rory was the first person he'd told since moving back to the States, because it would only give his classmates something else to torment him about. "We just moved to Virginia a couple of months ago."
John was thankful that he was pulling open the door to the refrigerator, giving him a moment to covertly wipe at his eyes. He still missed living abroad, and thinking about it always brought up thoughts about his dad.
"There's everything you can imagine in here!" he announced, surprised by the selection of drinks and foods inside the refrigerator. Pulling out the carton of goat's milk and setting it on the counter, he began the hunt for a glass.
"Rocky Road cookies?" he clarified, listening to her talk about the Inn. "Those sound good."
"And everything is still warm," he added to Rory's observation that the food couldn't have made itself. "So it can't have been out for very long."
Finding the glasses in a cupboard, John poured himself a glass of milk and leaned against the counter, drinking it slowly. It was fresh, he noticed immediately, straight from the goat and into the cooler.