Michael
I amble into the kitchen to the mixed smells of toast, peppermint and coffee. Mitch, Beth and Charlotte are gathered around the breakfast table. Plastering a smile on my face, I try to sound cheerful. “Morning all.”
“Morning, Michael,” smiles Beth. She still looks tired, but like Charlotte, is still going through the stage of not wanting to let go of Adam. He coos in her arms and she keeps her attention on him.
Charlotte speaks quickly, then looks away. “Hi.”
Mitch nods, then sips from her teacup, looking down.
Have I said something I shouldn’t?
Offended one of them?
Snagging a couple of oranges, I head for the squeezer and slice the first one in half. “Juice, anyone?”
“I’ll have some,” says Charlotte. “And squeeze some for Mom too, please.”
“Sure thing.” I grab another
