"Why wouldn't I be?" she asks. With a wave of her hand, the various envelopes of junk mail drift lazily off her table and land in a pile by the door to make room. A second later, her cat rises out of the chair where she'd been napping, casting Wanda a truly jaundiced look with one gold eye.

She isn't ready yet to admit that the food does look good.

"Are you...?" Wanda trails off, clearly debating as to whether or not she cares if Tony is okay.