“I was starting to think you were lost.”

“I was just taking a drive to clear my head,” I said, walking to the edge of the granite island.

He picked up the green box of Sleepytime vanilla chamomile tea and took two ceramic mugs down from the wooden cabinet above his head.

“I’m brewing a fresh cup for both of us,” Daniel said, setting the mugs side by side on the counter.

“You look exhausted, Margaret, so you should sit down while the tea steeps.”