“Wow, I’m impressed.  You’re a writer/professor/carpenter.  Anything else?” asked Liza.  The shelves were really nice, wood with metal brackets anchoring them to the wall.

Bruce smiled and turned his head.  “No, I think that’s everything.  Well, unless you want to count the skills I’ve acquired being homeless.  Maybe I should do an urban version of Survivorman.”  Jake froze.  Liza laughed, then stopped when Jake gave her a look.

“Wait,” said Liza, “it’s OK for me to laugh at your gay plumber jokes, but not at Bruce’s homeless guy jokes?”

“Mine aren’t as bad!” said Jake.

“Maybe not to you.  It doesn’t bother me that you’re gay, but I don’t need the visuals that come along with some of your jokes!” said Liza.  Now Bruce started laughing.

“I don’t know what you three are giggling about down there, but dinner’s ready,” called Michael’s rough voice from the top of the stairs.  All three turned and saw a puff of smoke glide down the steps before dissipating around a light bulb on the ceiling.