For the third time in a week, Danny swore he'd stumbled upon a parallel universe. This time he found jars on the kitchen counter. Mixing bowls in the sink. CJ, still in pajamas and barefoot, her hands stained purple-blue.
"CJ, what the hell are you doing?"
She squeezed a lemon-half over a bowl. "Me? Why, I'm making jam. Blueberry jam. Jam with blueberries."
"Okay, you need to stop."
"What do you mean? It's jam. Who doesn't like jam?" she asked.
"What I mean is, first, you cleaned the house. Top to bottom. Then, you tried to plant a garden. And I love cleanliness, and flowers, and jam," he said, his voice loud. "But, come on, CJ, you're not a Stepford Wife, and I'm not sure when you got the idea that you needed to be one."
Her cheery, bubbly veil of domestic enthusiasm dropped as she met his eyes, her jaw set in a flare of anger. "Since everyone with a Y chromosome I've had the misfortune of dating expected me to fall into that role, and I either had to deal with it or not, and if I chose 'not', it was my fault that it didn't work."
"Okay," he said, both hands raised in a gesture of surrender. He nodded with understanding as he padded across the kitchen to stand beside her. "Look," he said, his voice softer as he slid his hand across her back. "I know you're new at this, and a long-haul is pioneer territory, and that's okay. But all I ever expected you to be is you."
Several quiet seconds passed. CJ searched his eyes as she wet her lips and swallowed. When she inhaled deeply, she answered with a half-smile and a quick nod. "I'm going to finish this," she said, tilting her head toward the bowl and open jars.
"CJ, I already said that-"
"So I can have a sticky weapon to throw at you whenever I want. I can have breakfast and wage war all at the same time, and don't think I won't," she said, pointing at him. "I've done it before."
"That's my girl," he whispered to himself as he started toward the balcony.
When a spoonful of jam hit the back of his head, he couldn't conjure enough false annoyance to suppress a private smirk.