Liz was sitting in the kitchen next to the stove pretending to read a book and thinking about Jim.

Nick’s father ordered some water to be put on the stove, and while it was heating he spoke to Nick.

I had a dog⁠—at least I had him for a few days until he ran away⁠—and an old Dodge and a Finnish woman, who made my bed and cooked breakfast and muttered Finnish wisdom to herself over the electric stove.