Min ushered me gently inside. She attended to taking my coat and draping it on a hook in her coat cubby. She also took my sneakers to sit beneath my hanging coat. I thanked her immensely, as I’d just worn those sneakers all day, and by now, they must stink. Yet, she dealt with it. Sometimes, she was too hospitable, and I felt unmatched when she came over to my mother and I’s house.

Min playfully punched my shoulder upon her return. She knows that always makes me smile, and it did.

“I have some tea that just got done steeping on the stove. Care to come in the kitchen, sit down, and have some?”

I knew she was really asking, “Care to talk about what’s been bothering you today?”

I nodded my consent, and followed her along into the kitchen. I took a seat at her little country house table, and watched as she pulled out two mugs from a nearby cabinet. She removed from a warming burner a small, silver kettle and began pouring the light green liquid into each cup. She brought the mugs over, gently setting one down in front of me, and then grabbed some sugar and a tin server of cream to set down in the middle of the table.

Min sat down beside me.

I spooned a few spoonfuls of sugar into my cup and poured in a bit of cream. After stirring it together, I drew upon the liquid, relishing the refreshing taste. “Thank-you.”

Min was preparing her tea for drinking. “No problem,” she replied, thoughtfully stirring together the sugar and squeeze of lemon that was added.

I chose to sip extra of my mug in silence. Then, raising my eyes away from the inside of my cup, I saw the sincerity in her eyes, and knew, maybe it was time to start talking.

“So, what’s been up with you, Mick?” Min asked. “You haven’t been yourself lately.”

I wrapped my hands around the mug. The heat transferred instantly to my palms. “My dad had me visit him and his new wife the other day. It’s been three months since I’ve lasts seen him, but that irritation, that pain, is still there. So, I wasn’t happy being there, I - in a way - told him off, and since then, that irritation has been sitting. It hasn’t gone away.”

“I see,” she said. “Is there anything, really, that maybe I could do to help out?”

I shook my head. “This is enough,” I stated, broadening my hands away from the mug to display the little tea-time set up. “But, I’ve done most of what I can to dissolve the irritation. I’ve blocked his calls, both from my cell and home phone, and ripped up the letters he’s now decided to send me since I don’t respond to his calls or texts anymore.”

“There’s nothing, I can do?” she reconfirmed.

Again, I shook my head. “Filling my time with work and other things will help.” I sighed. “But, if you have something that might help with that… Sure. You can help.”