“I’m sorry,” I say with a sigh, walking into the kitchen. I stand next to him as he loads the coffee maker. There is something so soothing about watching him try to find his way around my kitchen. “No one has ever given Jack medicine but me and his babysitter. It’s hard to get used to.” He lets out a soft chuckle. Then he pauses what he’s doing and glances up at me. “My mother never gave me medicine. Not once.”
