and Emma a picture of the kittens.
Michael called less than thirty seconds later.
“Dad, why are two kittens wrapped in my baby blanket?”
Greg rolled his eyes.
“You’re thirty years old, Mike.”
“Still my blanket.”
Emma joined the call moments later.
For several minutes, they teased their father relentlessly about naming kittens Susan and Steve.
Then Michael became quieter.
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“You know you’re allowed to miss us, right?”
Greg swallowed.
“I know.”
Emma spoke next.
“We miss you too.”
Then, without hesitation, she added,
“Also, my kitchen sink
