"What you say you want from us for support is as changeable as the wind," Calliope said, getting up and going to get the kettle and the mugs for the tea. Melpomene was always so dramatic. She wasn't the only one, of course, but she was spikey when she was hurting, making her hard to soothe. Calliope was going to come back around to that knife, though, the literal spike in her fist.
On her return to the room, Calliope calmly poured the tea. She didn't get riled in response to Melpomene's sarcasm, just let it slide off her like water off a duck's back. "People might visit you more, my love," she said gently, making the three of them tea how they liked it, and holding Melpomene's mug up to her, "if you were a little more willing to let them in."