“Why would we get rid of my couch?â€? Joe knew, without even seeing his face, that Adam wore that ridiculous sour expression.

“Sweetie, I love you,â€? Kate began softly.

Yes, but why? Joe fought the urge to speak.

“And,â€? Kate continued, “don’t take this the wrong way, but brown couches with neon green and yellow flowers just aren’t in style anymore.â€?

Joe flinched at the couch’s description. “If ever they were,â€? he mumbled. To his delight, Kate fought a smile; even better, she failed.

“I want to keep the couch,â€? Adam resembled a four-year-old. “It has sentimental value.â€?

This is going to take a while, Joe thought, sitting on one of the four stools nailed to the floor in front of the kitchen’s bar. From here, he had a perfect view of Kate, off to his left a little, with the indirect sunlight lighting the right side of her face and Adam’s shadow casting on her left. It’s probably her shadow, he told himself, but decided he liked the original thought better. Kate was very much Adam’s shadow.