I perched on the edge of the wooden seat with my hands in my lap.

Daniel opened the bottle with a silver corkscrew he normally kept locked in the dining room sideboard.

“We just feel like we’ve been running around so much with work,” Daniel said, pouring dark red wine into two of the glasses.

“We haven’t had enough quiet time with you since the summer.”

“You’ve been awfully busy with your house listings,” I said.

“That’s true, but family comes first,” he said.