"Mr. Thompson, go to the supermarket and buy me some things; I'll make a list for you."
Eliza Quarter brushed off the hand resting on her shoulder and pretended to hold her lower back as if in pain while she reached for pen and paper.
The man watched her gesture, a faint smile curling at the corner of his mouth, making it seem as though she was the one seven or eight months pregnant.
Eliza made a long list of miscellaneous items; either way, it would take him at least an hour to get back from the supermarket.
After finishing the list, she handed the slip of paper to James Thompson with a cheerful smile, "Hurry up and go, and come back quickly."
James Thompson leaned lazily against the couch, his dark eyes fixed on Eliza as he took the list and glanced at it—it was all daily necessities and some fruit.
"Hurry up," Eliza continued to watch TV, nudging his leg with a pillow, "Why are you so lazy now? You used to be very diligent."
How things are now, how they were before.