Page 65 of Doughn't Let Me Go

Kyrie finally pops her head into the kitchen. “Pancakes!”

He spins around, a huge grin plastered to his face like we weren’t just emotionally naked with one another.

“Wanna see?”

She races across the floor, skidding to a halt next to him.

“What kind? What kind?”

She bounces up and down on her heels, staying far enough away from the stovetop that she doesn’t burn herself while still trying to peer up and see what he’s making.

“Guess.”

She inhales deeply. “Ooooh.” She claps her hands together. “Brown Sugar Peanut Butter Banana Explosion!”

“Your favorite.”

She wraps her arms around his legs. “You’re my favorite dad I’ve ever had.”

There’s a stutter in his movements, a quick flash in his eyes before he recovers and runs his hand through her hair, messing it up, and says, “I’m the only dad you’ve ever had.”

But I see it. I see it all.

And I have so many questions.

“I know, and that’s why you’re my favorite!”

“Good. Now go get dressed. Breakfast will be ready soon.”

“Is Dory having breakfast with us?”

“I hope so. I made enough for a whole army. But maybe you should ask her just in case.”

Kyrie pokes her head out from behind his legs. “Do you want pancakes? They’re pretty good.”

“Hey, just pretty good?” Porter pouts.

“They’re the best, Dad.” Kyrie lifts her eyes skyward. “You know that.”

“I do, but it’s still good to hear.”

“Missy Fishy, you want the best pancakes ever?”

“Missy Fishy?” Porter’s head whips around to me. “What the hell is that?”

“It’s our thing. Never you mind.” I wave him off. “And I’ll be the judge of whether or not these are the best pancakes ever. I can make a mean pancake myself, Little Fish.”

I feel Porter’s heated gaze on me, and I ignore it.

“Oh, Dad! We should let Dory cook next Wednesday.” She pats her little belly. “I’ll be the taste tester.”

“You got a deal.” They shake hands. “Now go get dressed or I’ll burn your pancake on purpose.”

Kyrie gasps. “You wouldn’t dare! You love me too much.”

He points his spatula at her. “Wanna test that theory?”

Eyes wide, she shrieks, “No!” then scurries out of the kitchen.

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