"I remember, suddenly, why I love you so." Tracey laughed. She crossed back to the kitchen, a simple gesture of her wand closing the door behind them. "No, please. You set out the pastries. I only have to wait for the kettle to boil."
The French press already sat on the counter, coffee already measured and waiting in the glass pot. It had even been adorned with a cinnamon stick and chunks of a nutmeg berry.
"Tell me what is going on, love." Tracey said softly, her fingers curling over the back of the chair as she looked over the contents of Daphne's basket.