Adna proposed a weekend at her aunt's country house, convinced she would get to know Nermin better among trees than in restaurants. In exchange, her aunt left three full crates of pears and asked them to make compote. Nermin said he knew how, although he had only watched his mother do it once. Adna replied that she knew too. Half an hour later they stood before the stove, each with a different sugar ratio and precisely the same stubborn expression.
They had been together for four months. Both were accustomed to their families calling when something needed solving; neither knew how to be a beginner before someone they liked. Nermin tried opening a stuck jar with bare hands. Adna offered a cloth; he refused, the jar slipped, and it shattered on the tiles. They were barefoot because they had left their shoes on the porch. Their romantic weekend now required someone to admit they could not even move without help.
Adna laughed first, but not at him. She asked him to pass her slippers from a chair he could reach. He did, she fetched a broom, and they cleaned the floor together, carefully checking the corners. Only then did they call her aunt. The woman said there was a jar opener in the lower drawer and a recipe hanging inside the cupboard door. Both had opened that door several times, so certain of their knowledge that they had not looked at what was written there.
As they peeled pears, Adna admitted she felt uncomfortable when anyone thought her clumsy. As the oldest in her family she had early become the person who could always manage. Nermin said that after his divorce he had decided to do everything alone, so now he often heard help as someone else's doubt in him. The conversation did not remove those habits. They still bumped elbows several times and offered unwanted advice, but they began recognizing the moment before turning help into a defense of pride.
They made less compote than her aunt expected and a pie burned around the edge. That evening they ate the middle of the pie on the porch, tired and sticky. Adna rested her head on his shoulder and said she needed someone to drive home tomorrow. Nermin agreed, then asked her to wake him because he always slept through his alarm. When they left, they took two jars marked only with the date. They did not look like evidence of competence. They looked like something they would enjoy opening together in the middle of winter.