A corner of her lips curls up into a grin. "You're in charge of supper, then, and no. The gift is for the other Tim." Sasha rolls her eyes and sits at their little table. "Of course it's for you."

She unfurls the napkin to rest on her lap. "Go on, then. Open it!" Food might be lukewarm by the time they get to it, but Sasha doesn't mind. This is important, too. It's good, she thinks.