“What sort of restaurant are you going to open?” Edwin asked as Carson set two heaping plates on the table. He had come home with bags of groceries, declaring they were having a Mexican night. Edwin hadn’t even mentioned being hungry—his appetite had been missing for several days now—but he wasn’t going to complain about the supper. Especially since it obviously gave Carson pleasure to prepare food. Or maybe it just comforted him. Either way, Edwin knew if he wasn’t careful, he would eventually gain a hundred pounds under Carson’s care.
“I think that’s a funny question to ask.”
Edwin frowned. “Why?”
“Most people ask what type I want to open, or otherwise couch it with hypothetical language. You asked like my restaurant is a forgone conclusion.”
Edwin shrugged. “Why wouldn’t it be a for
