He spies his drink and scoops it up for a long sip like it's ice cold lemonade after a hard day's work instead of unpleasantly warm whiskey after a few moment's tinkering.

"You don't have to," he points out after swallowing, but she knows that he enjoys the work. And he's not opposed to her speeding him along so he waves her on as he makes his way back inside the house after another cautionary glance towards their stupid mutt. He's still playing along the water's edge and doesn't seem to be disturbing anything so Frank lets him be as he starts to dig his grocery bags out of the deep freeze, laying fingers against the glass of the liquor bottle to see if it's cooled any. "Was gonna make kebabs."

He remembers to tell her as the ingredients would have anyway, peppers and beef and skewer sticks hitting the counter all at once. Locating a few cutting boards, he lays them down side by side and holds up two knives for her consideration, intending for her to take one. Since he doesn't think she knows which is which anyway, when she makes her choice of the vegetable chopper he shoves the peppers over to her station.

"Ever chopped onions?"