Bruno slid the ceramic bowl onto the porch step. He did not look back. The bowl rattled against the wood. A seagull cried overhead, loud and sudden. Bruno nearly tripped over his own boots.
Lily stood behind the oak tree. Her fingers held the doorframe. The wind shook the windows of the empty house behind her. She watched Bruno's dark shape melt into the doorway.
The next evening, Bruno set out three bowls along the cobblestone. One near the fence. One by the gutter. One in the center. He sat on his step and tore a piece from his sandwich.
A tiny gray kitten darted from the dark. Two more followed. Bruno did not move. The kitten ate first. Bruno tore another piece of sandwich and put it in his mouth.
Lily stepped out from behind the oak tree. She stood at the very edge of Bruno's porch. Bruno froze. The sandwich hovered halfway to the kitten. He looked up at her.
Everyone had told Lily not to approach Bruno. He was quiet. He was strange. But his dark eyes were just looking at her, waiting. The kitten finished eating and looked up at both of them.
Lily did not cross the street. She lowered herself onto the bottom step beside him. Her back was stiff. She pulled a crumpled cookie from her coat pocket and set it on the cobblestone for the nearest cat.
Bruno looked at the cookie. He looked at her. Then he tore the sandwich in half. He held out the larger piece toward her. Lily reached for it.
The seagulls called from the harbor. The kittens purred. Neither of them spoke. The cookie lay forgotten on the stone.
The next evening, Bruno set out four bowls. One for each of them. Lily arrived before dark and sat on the step without being asked. A seagull landed on the fence post and watched.