She deserves the credit for helping him get there. Of course he can't read everything. Her confused looks stops him in his tracks. "The store," he answers. Her suggestion is much more logical though. He wouldn't have thought of that because it isn't his kitchen. He turns to the cabinet she tilts her head to and goes to bring the Jasmine to her. Before he hands it to her, he twists the lid off and gives it a couple sniffs. "Yes. This should be it," he declares after a moment. The scent isn't as strong as a human but his gut tells him it's it.

Especially would be for an angel, reborn human.

He thinks about that for a second. "No, I don't believe he was." He looks at her as if she presented him with a mystery, however, because if the microwave does not count, then what does count at the minimum. What does being the South have to do with it? He'll take his pasta and squirt the dijon on it, eat a little. It still has him on the edge of his proverbial seat to be shown the way. "You mentioned showing me the way? What is that?" he finally asks.