“Yes, dear.” Ira sighed; he wasn’t that foolhardy. He’d only just gotten back on speaking terms with his landlady.
After a moment to recover from the unrelenting cuteness that was Theo, Ori nodded in answer to Staas’ question. “Yeah, I do. I try, anyways, in my dorm or at home with Papa when I’m there. “I don’t usually go to the college cafeteria. Not many do, there are way too many good delis and diners and stuff in Pittsburgh, and they’re places I can trust, too. Ira and I know practically all of the food places in town, and they know us, ever since we were kids."
Ori paused to pop a piece of asparagus into her mouth, chewing cheerfully. “…You think Ira sucks at cooking now, but he was even back worse then. You have no idea.” She shook her head, her smile impish but clearly fond.
Ira just shrugged and had a sip of milk, not rising to the bait. “Why cook when I can charm others into doing it for me? And for free,” he added smugly, though that wasn’t entirely true. Ira was eating so often at the Moorens these days that he was stubborn about paying for the groceries on a regular basis.
Ori was looking at Staas, her smile a little more serious this time. “Thanks again for looking after him. I know that he appreciates it, he only tells me all the fu—all the time, and he probably tells you, too. But it means a lot to me, too. Oh, and Papa.” Ori grinned. “He sends his regards.” And his regrets that Staas wasn’t a woman, but she wasn’t going to mention that.
“Hopefully he’ll visit soon,” Ira added, somewhat wistfully. Papa was not one for much traveling these days, though; his arthritis and bad back made it difficult to sit through the train ride.