Mrs. Stephens starts the first cup and the heavy smell of coffee hits the air. A couple minutes later, she walks back and places two cups on the table before pulling out a chair.

"Thanks," I say, taking a sip. She laughs when I make a face. It's the crappiest cup of anything I've ever had.

"Yeah, it's pretty bad," she admits, pushing her cup away. Then she cocks her head as if she's sensing my emotions.

And she probably is. I'm getting used to it, I think, her ...