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Christos.

I was glad when Mary walked in thirty something minutes later with a tray of food and getting up to help her put the food on the table, we quickly made a short work of it.

Soon, the table was covered with plates of chicken, fries, soda and juice. Dismissing Mary to go back to her duties, I took the plates and served the kids and because I was also famished despite my concern for Becca’s health, I took a plate and served myself also before sitting down quietly to my meal.

“You will agree that there is nothing like good French fries, right, Uncle Christos?” Eric commented with a smile and since it was obvious I was also enjoying my meal, there was no denying of the fact.

“Absolutely correct, son—hmm Eric.” About to make the same mistake again, I quickly changed the son to his name.

From the way both siblings peered at me, it was obvious they noticed, although none of them made mention of it; which I’m grateful for!

“What do you care for, Uncle Christos? Juice or soda?” E
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