Allison considered Vanya for a long second. The likelihood of how much Vanya had probably been outside of her house, to shop or explore, even just to eat. Or if she wanted to take it painstakingly even closer, how much she has or hasn't come out of her room, mingled with the people in her house, if they've helped her adjust, if Vanya would let them (if Vanya will let her).

After that single perusal, she looked toward the hostess podium and its cheerful smiling person behind it, in their near little suit and then back to Vanya. Table, then, I think.

That way we can get appetizers, or something to go with them, if we decide we need them. It couldn't hurt.