He was in the process of cleaning the kitchen within an inch of its life and was currently working on the oven. “I haven’t used that appliance enough in five years to merit all the work you’re putting into cleaning it,” Gerald said, smiling gently. “Never knew you were a cleaner, Morgan. You got that from your mother.” “What do you mean?” Morgan asked, pulling his head out of the oven to meet his father’s gaze. “I could always tell when your mother was upset because she would scrub the kitchen. I was the only man I knew who dreaded coming home to a spotless house. It meant I had screwed up royally,” Gerald said, dropping down into a chair at the table. “A perfectly clean kitchen still gives me the willies.” Morgan considered that and laughed. “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to upset you more than I already have, Dad. I just needed something to do.” “Did you apologize to Thea?” Gerald asked. “Yes, but she wasn’t really in a receptive mood,” Morgan said, going back to his cleaning.
