Just as she'd suggested, he dumps everything in the sink - save the cast-iron pan, which stays on the stove, to be babied later - and goes hunting for a coat. When he gets out there, he decides it was the right choice to insist on the porch. It's not as cold as he might have expected, though he's still glad he's got a jacket on.

"Room for one more?" He's already sitting down next to her, wrapping an arm around her beneath the blanket. "I thought you'd already have these torn open."