Michael nodded, then looked over at Jeff. “Refill?”
Jeff mumbled something I guessed was supposed to be an affirmative. Quietly, Michael reached down and retrieved Jeff’s mug from the tabletop, and took it into the kitchen. I followed, mostly because I could tell Jeff was making a concerted effort not to look at me, and his avoidance just made the whole situation that much weirder.
Although the kitchen was just as cluttered as the rest of the house, it was sparkling clean. I wondered how Michael kept all the copper Jell-O molds and decorative earthenware dishes and baskets hanging on the walls so free of dust and grease.
He went to an old-fashioned cowboy-style coffee pot sitting on the stovetop and filled a heavy stoneware mug with the brew. “Milk? Sugar?”
“Both, please,” I said. I kn
