Page 25 of Painting Together a Family
“That sounds great, and I’ll go with the mint too.”
“I’ll make a potful then.” That way if they wanted second cups they were there.
He grabbed a couple of bags from the container and set them on the counter. Then he filled the kettle up and turned it on before grabbing the teapot out of the cupboard. He rinsed the inside with hot water before putting in the tea bags.
“Is that how you’re supposed to do it?” Dev asked.
Bryan shrugged. “It’s what my grandmother always used to do—warm up the teapot. She claimed the tea tasted better if the pot knew it was coming.”
“Oh, that’s neat. I love stuff like that, you know? The little historical details about stuff, people, places. The things that make them unique.”
“She was that.” Bryan remembered her fondly. She and his mom had fought a lot, but he’d spent time at her place every summer while both his parents worked. She’d been just far enough that it made more sense for him to spend the bulk of the summer staying with her while his folks would come spend either Saturday or Sunday visiting. He’d been only ten when she’d died, and it had been devastating. For a long time, he’d thought she’d abandoned him. Actually being abandoned had been reserved for his parents who’d disowned him when he’d come out. He’d tried reaching out when he’d married Miller, and then again when the kids were born, all to no avail. He had not reached out at all when Miller had died. For all he knew, they were both gone now, not that it mattered if they were or not—in a practical way, they were, by their own choice.
“You were close?” Dev asked softly, clearly picking up on his melancholy.
He nodded. “I stayed with her every summer until she died when I was ten.”
Dev reached out and squeezed his hand. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks. It was a long time ago.”
“But your love for her never goes away.”
“No, no it doesn’t. But it makes me happier than sad to remember her now.” He was pretty sure she would have stood by him when he’d come out. She’d been special.
He shook himself as the kettle whistled, and he poured the water into the pot and set the lid on it. Then he set the timer for six minutes. “The mint ones take longer to seep. Unless you prefer it weak.” He tried not to imply that weak tea was for wusses, but he may not have been successful given the way Dev laughed at him.
“I like it however you want to make it.”
Dylan came zooming in and Bry hid his smile. He knew what this was.
“Daddy—is dessert ready yet?”
“Are you already hungry after such a big dinner?”
“There’s always room for dessert.”
“I know, I know. You boys and your dessert stomachs.” He grinned over at Dev. “They apparently have a stomach dedicated to desserts, and it’s always empty.”
“Oh, is that how it works?”
“Apparently so.”
“Daddy!”
“Yes, Dylan?”
“Is dessert ready yet?”
“If you go get the others and come help set the table for it, then it can be ready.”
Dylan took off, and he grabbed six little plates from the cupboard and got six forks out of the utensil drawer.
“Can I help?” Dev asked.
He nodded to the cupboard over the toaster. “Four glasses for milk or water—or whatever your girls want. The boys will have milk.”
All four kids were back before Dev had all the glasses down, and they dutifully grabbed everything and took it out into the dining room.
