He swallows, sniffs and, holding out the mug, speaks. “Any more of that?”
“Sure.” I pour him a refill. “You should be good with this. You’ve had practice.”
He yawns. “I was thirty years younger then. And I think the brain throws in filters. You forget about this part of it.”
“James, I think we should set up a rota for nights. There’s no reason it has to be Charlotte all the time to give Cara her feed. So long as the bottles are ready, we can all take a turn.”
He massages behind his neck. “You too?”
“Yes, me too. Cara was always going to be our daughter; our Triad. It’ll be even more so when the next comes along, and any others. And who knows what’s going to happen with Beth and Richard? We should all be pitching in to help.”
James slams his mug down on the tray... “Done.” … then winc
