Loud grumbles come from my stomach, vibrating my arm that lays flat across it. I wasn’t very hungry last night. Although, I did browse through the refrigerator, only to find it relatively empty.
That doesn’t surprise me. Mom was always the one who did the shopping.
I stay in bed a little longer, not having much energy to get up. For some reason, all I think about is what time Dad came home last night. Or did he?
Finally, I force myself out of bed, gather clean clothes, and go take a hot shower. Once I’m finished, I brush my teeth and throw on a little bit of mascara before I head downstairs. I pause halfway down the stairs when the smell of pancakes hits my nostrils.
With a smile, I hurry down the rest of the stairs to find Dad at the stove, attempting to make pancakes. Going by the plate off to the side, full of odd-shaped pancakes—some completely crumbled—he’s failing at the making part.
I walk into the kitchen, stopping at his side. “What’s this?” I ask even though it’s obvious.
“Pancakes. They aren’t anything like your mother’s.” He doesn’t look at me. I frown, allowing silence to take over before he continues, “I know I promised dinner. Unfortunately, I was stuck at the office longer than anticipated. You were asleep when I got home, so I figured I would make you something to eat this morning to make up for it.”
Stuck at work, right.
I want to ask him why he stormed angrily into the house yesterday during his shift. But I don't. Instead, I look back at the plate of sloppy pancakes and bite back a laugh. They look horribly unpleasant, but the gesture is still heartwarming.
With a small smile, I say, “Thanks, Dad.”
I give him a much-needed hug, but my eyes narrow at how his body stiffens, wondering if I have done something wrong. The long breath he releases wipes that thought away, when his body relaxes.
He turns and places a small kiss on the top of my head. “I’ll make you a plate.”
I nod, blowing out a breath myself. “Thank you.”
The kitchen chair scrapes lightly against the tile floor as I pull it out and take a seat. Dad brings over a plate of pancakes, topped with strawberries and whipped cream. The way Mom would always make them. My heart is heavy once again wishing she was here.
Dad takes a seat across from me and shoves a bite into his mouth. I do the same, taking a smaller bite. A few chews later, I make a face.
“Dad… these are the worst pancakes I’ve ever had.”
He chuckles deeply, showing the small wrinkles around his mouth. “Yeah. They sure are.”
He picks up a napkin on the side of his plate and wipes the crumbs off his mouth before standing up and reaching into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. My heart falls into my stomach as I watch him slide a twenty-dollar bill across the table.
“I have to head to work. Grab yourself something to eat.”
Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I nod with a smile of appreciation. Except, that’s not how I feel. Accepting this twenty only leaves me feeling useless. But I don’t have much of a choice right now, seeing as there aren’t many options in the cabinets or fridge for me to eat, and I don’t have a job.
Dad cleans his plate. “I’ll see you later. How does pizza sound?”
I smile for real this time. “Pizza sounds amazing.”
“Great,” he says, then heads toward the front door. I call out to stop him before he leaves.
“What time are you getting out of work?”
His eyes drift into the living room, looking at the grandfather clock and then back at me. “Around six.”
My lips press together. “I’ll see you then.”
He nods before turning around and closing the door softly.
And just like that, I’m left all alone again.
Chapter Seven
Alec