"Well, I certainly wouldn't want you to get melancholy, nor would I want to be afflicted with the same," Theodore agreed heartily. "Let's do that, then. Pie, and whatever else." He smiled agreeably, warmly. He'd had to find his own family once already: no mother, a father who had loathed him and Theodore had hated equally in return. Only Jamie, then Jamie and Elaine, then Jamie taken from him, and Elaine growing up into her own woman. Yes, he could find family again: in Del, in Hugh, in whoever else could help him not start to feel the loneliness he knew could be around a corner if he actually started looking for it.
"I'm glad to be here, too," he concurred. "Glad I could get to know you outside of those fancy parties and the New York lights. It was never really my thing. I'm a little too rough for that; more sand and wind and steamy jungles and caves. Though," he smirked, "I do clean up rather nicely, if I must."