Page 39 of Suddenly Entwined

I clap my hands together once. “Okay, put me to work.”

“I’m making their lunches. I’ve got it.”

He opens a frozen loaf of whole wheat bread and pulls out four slices.

“Let me do it. You should sit down and eat your breakfast.” I gesture at the full coffee pot and the cooling toast.

“I usually have it on the go. You want coffee?”

I laugh, because Berg might have asked me for help the other day, but he sure doesn’t seem ready to actually receive it.

I bump his thigh with my hip. “Shove over.”

Berg is so solid that I might as well have hip checked a small tree, because he doesn’t move, laying the bread out neatly on the cutting board. A smile tugs the corner of his lips, clearly amused at my weak attempt to nudge him out of the way.

“Coffee mugs are above the pot. Why don’t you have a cup and watch how the morning usually goes.”

Stubborn man. Unluckily for him, I’m stubborn too.

“I’m more of a trial by fire kind of girl. I’ve already done the snotty nose thing, so I’m more than ready for a promotion to sandwiches.”

I move to snag the butter knife, but he’s quick, and he holds the damn thing out of my reach, eyes playful.

“Natalie won’t eat crusts, never has, never will. Both girls usually like carrot sticks, but Lou has a wiggly tooth, so that’s a no go right now. Natalie can’t have nuts in her lunch because there’s a classroom allergy.”

I wait, seeing if he’s going to continue.

“Is that all?”

He shakes his head but lowers his arm and places the butter knife in my palm. “Not, really. No.”

“I’ll figure it out. This was your idea. Remember?”

He frowns, exaggerating the lines between his brows.

“I know. I’ve been doing this for so long, though. It’s routine.”

It was hard for him to ask me to do this. I was so worried he only offered me this job out of pity or as a favour to my brother, but Berg actually needs some help. He’s an exceptional dad, that’s clear to see, but something has to give. Passing off morning sandwich duty seems worth it, so he can sit down and have a hot meal before working all day. Moving around him, I open the cupboard he said the mugs are in and pull one out.

“Well, today will be day one of a new routine. For all of us,” I add.

The coffee smells strong as I pour it, and then I turn and press the warm mug into his hands.

“Now get out of my way.”

He grumbles, but accepts the coffee and takes his toast and eggs to the table. I feel his eyes on my back as I lay the slices out on a wooden cutting board. The only sounds in the kitchen are the hum of the dishwasher and the occasional clink of his fork on his breakfast plate. As soon as I squirt a dollop of mayo on a slice of bread I hear the sharp click of his tongue in the universal sound of disapproval. I roll my eyes to the pot lights dotting the ceiling, but don’t turn around.

“Yes?” I ask, smoothing out the mayonnaise.

“Usually I put some butter down first. So the bread doesn’t get soggy by lunchtime,” he says, matter of factly.

“I’ll keep that in mind for tomorrow.”

It’s not a bad suggestion, really. But who likes being told how to make a sandwich?

I lay the turkey meat out and after adding thin pieces of cheddar, I close it up and cut it down the centre with a serrated knife.

A tsk from behind me cuts through the silent kitchen as easily as my knife sliced through the bread. Setting the knife down, I rest my palms on the counter, let my head fall forward, and suck in a deep breath.

---