bairnsidhe

“Why is there lingonberry jam in the fridge?” Steve asked, standing in the glow of cold air and eyeing the jar in question skeptically.

Jane looked up from planning the menu for their next seven degrees party, a family gathering bringing in seven degrees of separation from their own pairing.  “Because I bought lingonberry jam? Please tell me you’re not one of those people who stores jam at room temperature.”

“No, of course not!” Steve scoffed.  He pulled out the yogurt he’d opened the fridge for in the first place, and leaned against the kitchen counter to eat it.  “So where did you get lingonberry jam?”

“They sell it at IKEA,” Jane said, still deep in the intricacy of accommodating food restrictions.  “You know, in that little grocery section past the checkout. Impulse buy, but totally worth it.”

“When did you go to IKEA?  I would have helped you bring home whatever it was.”

“It’s fine, I went with Gary.  He needed a shower curtain and I needed a new desk chair for my office.”

“Desk chair?”

“Yeah, I got a Skjoor… Skör,” Jane trailed off on the word, weighing the benefits of continuing to try to say it.  “You know what, it doesn’t matter. It’s all one piece, and it looks nice. You wanna go up to my office and take a look?”

“One piece, huh?” Steve said smugly, a wry grin at the edge of his lips.  He’d been caught fair and square, but he didn’t mind.

“Well, yeah,” Jane said, standing to give him a hug and a peck on the cheek.  “I love Gary, but I needed a chair right then, and he’s not my handyman boyfriend.  But... I saw a really pretty shelving unit while I was there.”

“You want to go to IKEA?”