“So how did it go?”
“Ugh,” Rory said, adjusting the screen of his laptop so he could see Mikayla better. They were on one of their weekly Skype chats, since Mikayla wasn’t always able to find a babysitter for her two kids under four, and her husband didn’t always work the most consistent hours at the local hospital. The two of them had been chatting aimlessly for the last fifteen minutes about their favourite books and the latest Netflix craze when, of course, Mikayla had to go and get serious.
Rory stared at the screen of his laptop, hoping that Mikayla would get his subtle brow shifts and drop the topic. But she was, as ever, distracted by something on her side of the screen. When her son Callum, a rambunctious three-and-a-half-year-old, came into her line of sight and started to sing
