In the kitchen, Darlington sets a pan on the stove to heat and takes the bacon from the fridge, checking on the slow percolating drip of the coffeepot as he puts slices of bread in the toaster and pushes the lever down. As he cooks, he can half-hear Alex in the other room, the murmur of her voice as she talks and hums--and, every so often, Edie piping up in what he knows intellectually isn't response but feels like it nevertheless. A few times, he catches himself pausing to listen for it, those small sounds of contentment coming from either or both of the girls he loves.
Once everything is plated and poured, he sets it all on a tray and carries it back to the sunroom, just in time to hear Alex's quiet, half-amused question. He smiles. "She's more of a fan of that than the Purcell I tried last night. Or this morning, technically."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2021-11-17 10:08 pm (UTC)Once everything is plated and poured, he sets it all on a tray and carries it back to the sunroom, just in time to hear Alex's quiet, half-amused question. He smiles. "She's more of a fan of that than the Purcell I tried last night. Or this morning, technically."