He tries to mirror the smile. A box of oranges for the holidays. Perhaps they can ask for cloves too, make little pomanders to hang in the thresholds and windowsills. It seems like such a frivolous notion though, and it would be their second holiday season spent here. Celebrations would be more bitter than sweet, he imagines.

"Never?" he asks, a touch surprised. He thought oranges were native to India, but what he doesn't know about Raju's home could fill a book and then some. But he does know one thing about oranges that's probably as true for Raju as it is for him - "they're pricy. A rich man's fruit, and rightly so, as delicious as they are. Sweet and tart, just a touch of that bitterness from the peel."

A box of oranges, for him and Raju to share. He inhales, testing the boundaries of the bandages, exhaling to stretch it slightly. He takes a few more of those deep breaths until he's more comfortable in his own skin, the wheezing quieting.

"Or we could ask for the boar to just kill Hickey for us," he adds a little darkly. "Do you think it would oblige?"