Heath’s dramatic relocation and Mark taking it all in stride.
The beach house.
Breakfast.
The seagull incident, because Sophie has always understood disaster better when small animals are involved.
The fact that Mark had offered to keep Heath before I had to bring him here.
By the time I finish, the tea has been made, gone slightly too strong, and Sophie is sitting opposite me with both hands around her mug.
She has not interrupted once.
Which is how I know I am in serious trouble.
From the living room, Matty shouts something at his headset.
Noah yells, “Mum, Jamie put a crisp in the sofa!”
Sophie closes her eyes briefly and heads to the doorway.
“Jamie, remove the crisp from the sofa.”
A pause.
Then, “With your hand, not your mouth.”
I focus on my tea.
The ordinary chaos should help.
It doesn’t.
There are muffled giggles from my nephews when Sophie comes back and sits down again.
“So,” she says quietly, “this wasn’t just a weekend.”
“It was supposed to be.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
No.
It isn’t.
My thumb traces the handle of the mug.
“I don’t know what it was.”
Sophie’s expression loosens, but not enough to let me off.
“Do you like him?”
“Yes.”
Too quick.
Too honest.
