"Yes." The admission came without hesitation, although it also came with the immediate regret of having said it. "But, ahm," he continued, a bit awkwardly, "you'll have to wait for the truth juice to kick in a little more if you wanna know why. I've got enough wits about me to shut up while I can."
Sliding off the counter, Tina grabbed a spoon and then opened the lid to the rice, prodding it a few times. "I think that's done," he concluded, and turned off the burner. "Which means dinner is done. Orange chicken and white rice. Chinese food, as promised." As he went to the table to grab the plates, he nodded toward a chair. "Sit down, let me serve you. It's your birthday, you deserve at least that."