Page 45 of Blindsided By the Enforcer

“You guys really go all out with Christmas cheer,” I note as I put a capsule in the coffee machine.

“Daddy has always been big on Christmas. He makes everything feel magical. I feel terrible that his back is hurting and Mom didn’t have the decency to stick around for gifts. It’s probably because I gave her a piece of my mind yesterday. She’s the kind of person who would rather run away from a problem instead of facing it,” she explains.

I take the gingerbread syrup she was talking about out of the fridge and add about an ounce to each of our coffees. I place hers in front of her.

“My mom’s leaving my dad,” I say out of nowhere.

Her blue eyes widen. “OMG, that’s huge.”

“It is. I kind of told her what I thought. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop on your conversation with your mother, but I was in the kitchen when you two were talking and the walls are thin.” I shrug. “You kind of gave me inspiration to tell my own mother that she shouldn’t be putting up with Dad’s bullshit anymore.”

“I’m the last person to inspire, Cade. I stood up for myself, but I should also be giving my father the advice you gave yourmother. Daddy is lonely out here on the farm. He’s put up with her antics for too long. I don’t know why he stays, other than he loves me and the farm. The farm belonged to my mom’s parents, but Mom hates it here and now we have legal troubles.” She pauses. “Anyway, are your parents separating something we are upset or happy about?”

Her question makes me smile. This girl cares what I think and what she is asking means she is going to offer her support either way.

“We’re sad on some level because it’s weird knowing your family is breaking apart, but on the other hand, we were always broken and Mom deserves to be happy,” I tell her.

“Yeah.” She sighs with a far-off smile.

“I better get on making breakfast. Is there a Christmas morning breakfast ritual you guys have? I’m not much of a chef, but I’ll do my best.”

“Daddy usually makes pancakes with the green-and-red M&M’s. We also make French toast, and Daddy uses green food coloring to color the bread, and then makes his famous strawberry puree topping to keep in sync with the theme, but it’s okay if you make whatever you like,” she assures.

“We aren’t breaking Caufield family traditions,” I insist. I ask her where to find the pancake batter and M&M’s. Then I get the green food coloring ready. I also slice up the bread for the French toast and make a milk and egg dip, which I add the green food coloring to. It all looks so overdone, and the thought of green food makes me kind of nauseous but the sweet smile on Annie’s face is worth all the work.

I get two pans going on the stove. One for the pancakes and one for the French toast. I’m a little nervous about flipping the pancakes though. I feel like it involves technique I don’t have.

“What size should these pancakes be? Are we talking big round things or like little cookie-size ones?” I ask.

“For a fighter you’re very sweet, Cade Price.” She giggles.

“I need you to answer me, Annie Caufield, or I’m going to burn the shit out of the oil and our pancakes will be black,” I warn.

“A medium size is good. Do you want me to help?” she offers.

“Uh uh, I’m making you a meal for hosting me so nicely.”

“Okay,” she replies in a tone that tells me she’s a little worried right now.

She probably should be. I don’t tell her that.

I make some medium-to-large-size pancakes because the batter spreads on the pan and I wasn’t expecting it to happen.

“So when would you say a good time to flip these are? The box says when they look bubbly, but I don’t know what that means.” I look at the box, curious for more information.

Annie stands and walks over to the pan. I take in her sweet scent. She smells like warm vanilla this morning. I wonder if she used some Christmas-scented soap in the shower. I feel like it’s something she would do.

“Okay, now’s a good time to flip,” she suggests.

I do as she says and the first one flips nice. The second one I flip off the pan and she bursts into laughter.

“That isn’t funny,” I reply, feeling offended. Well, only maybe slightly offended.

“It’s funny, Cade.” She holds her stomach. I begin laughing too as I go to flip the third pancake. Annie picks up the one that fell to the counter and throws it back on.

Luckily, the third one flips well. I can’t remember feeling this light and having this much fun.

She helps me with the rest of the batch of pancakes and when it comes to dipping the bread in the green goo I created, I want to gag. I don’t know how I am going to pretend to like these things, but I feel the need to because Annie is so excited by them.

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