[t's at least in a semi-organized pile and contained, but that's also not where laundry is supposed to go. So Bruno spares a glance to the laundry, but he says nothing of it. The books get a similar cursory glance, long enough that he can tell it has something to do with sports of some kind — hell if Bruno really knows more than that — and then his attention is settled on Polnareff as he passes off the glasses to him.]

I usually do a few routine chores or minor repairs depending on what the person needs or wants. This wasn't any different.

[Bruno sits near Polnareff, but while he's not on the edge of the bed, his feet remain on the ground. He starts opening the bottle.]

I'm used to it. I had a similar arrangement with most of the elderly in Napoli. Especially the widows or the ones whose families couldn't afford to visit often. [Bruno smiles a little.] Most of them would have a list of chores for me by the time I checked in on them again to keep me there for hours at times.

I'm not sure if you've ever been around an Italian nonna before, but there's two things they all love to do: talk and feed people. We'd chat about their families or whatever gossip they heard recently while I worked and eventually they would get around to fussing that I was too skinny and needed to eat more.

[Bruno pulls the cork free and motions for the first glass to pour.]

They didn't usually have much to spare, but turning them down would have been insulting.