Page 31 of Second Chance with the Single Dad Goalie
She gives me a look but doesn’t press. Instead, she turns to the cabinets.
"Should we start breakfast?" I ask.
“Yeah,” mom says, pulling out a few ingredients from the fridge.
“What’s on the menu today?”
“Big breakfast. Pancakes, scrambled eggs, toast, sausage, and some fresh fruit."
“Nice,” I say, heading to the cabinet to grab the bread.
Two hours later, we have turned the kitchen into a warm, bustling breakfast haven. The scent of fresh pancakes fills the house, along with the savory smells of bacon and sausage. I’m in the middle of setting the table when Dad walks in, still wearing his robe, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Leaning down, I plant a kiss on his cheek.
"Morning, Dad." I tease.
“Morning, sweetie. You’ve got this place smelling like a diner,” he says, his voice groggy but still warm.
“It’s all mom,” I say, patting his shoulder as I hand him a cup of coffee.
“You’re a good girl, Whit,” he says gruffly, taking a sip.
By now, the rest of the house is stirring. The sound of footsteps echoes down the hallway, followed by the laughter of Claire and Ed as they shuffle into the kitchen with their kids. Rosa andJanet follow soon after, their mumble and chatter filling the space. Then, Keith strolls in last, looking like he barely escaped from a tumble in a laundry basket. His hair’s a wild mess, and pajamas are rumpled and wrinkled in all the wrong places.
I can’t help but laugh as I glance at him. “Good morning, Keith,” I tease with a grin. “Did you have a date with the gods in charge of looking disheveled or something? Because you’re definitely winning the prize.”
Keith shoots me a half-grin, scratching his head. "I swear, I only closed my eyes for a minute and they attacked me in my sleep."
I roll my eyes but smile. "Uh-huh. Whatever you say."
Keith glances down at himself, and then back at me, “You like it?”
I laugh and shake my head, “Nope.”
He shrugs, “Your loss.”
A couple minutes later, everyone is gathered around the table, breakfast is set pancakes stacked high, golden bacon, eggs scrambled just the right way, and fresh fruit piled in bowls. There’s also toast, warm and crispy, with jam and butter. After saying grace, everyone digs in.
Breakfast is lively. The kids giggle over their plates, Claire gently scolding them when they get syrup all over their hands. Ed and Rosa argue about something ridiculous, mum and Janet whisper about a drama series they’ve been watching, and Dad and Keith talk business.
Everything is normal. Comfortable.
Until Mom clears her throat.
“Whitney.”
I glance up mid-bite, catching the slight shift in the room’s energy, “Hmm?”
She wipes her mouth with a napkin, and then says, "When Keith heads to the office today, go with him."
My fork pauses halfway to my mouth. “Why?”
Mom barely hesitates. "So, you can start learning the ropes of the company. Get familiar with how things work."
I lower my fork, as my stomach tightens, my appetite instantly gone. “Mom…”
“And” she adds, “you need to start thinking about moving back home.”
Silence.
