She had a pretty laugh, though he could tell she had about scared herself with the sound. Not much of that lately, he thought. "Ian is thirteen, though we're all still waiting for the big growth spurt to start," he said. "Quite a good boy, though. And Isa -- Isabella -- is just barely five. Rather shy but very sweet."
Jessie was about eight years older than him, so it wasn't odd for her to have kids those ages. He doted on his sister's children, probably the closest thing they had to a father figure. He missed them already.
He sat when she motioned him to. Being so tall, he did feel like he filled up too much of the space.
He winced faintly at the word plague. "I hadn't realized it was that bad," he said. "I just got back here after being gone several years." When she sat as well, he briefly put his hand on her arm; he was a person that touched, even in innocent situations. It was just his way.
"It's just fine, thank you," he said, sipping it. "Ah, heavenly caffeine, the true ambrosia of the gods."