Page 15 of Out of the Shadows
“You’re a good son. So you prep and she cooks?”
He held up his arm. There was a burn scar on his forearm, about three inches long and a quarter inch wide, faded but visible. “Over Easter I was stupid and burned myself, so I can’t cook unless she’s in the kitchen with me until I’m ten.” He rolled his eyes.
“What about me? Think she’d let me cook?”
Cody shrugged, but his eyes lit up. “Don’t see why not.”
Jack washed his hands and asked Cody for instructions. Cody showed him how to work the stove, which had a grill in the middle for the bacon and French toast. The kid supervised every move with a critical eye. When he was satisfied Jack knew what he was doing, he retrieved a large glass jar from the refrigerator half filled with fresh strawberries and blueberries. He carefully poured equal portions into small fruit bowls. “We usually don’t make breakfast during the week because Mom has to be at work by eight.”
“What do you and your sister do while she works?”
“The rec twice a week, and then we stay here or go to a friend’s house. Mom lets me stay if Sydney is here, but if she has plans I have to go to a friend’s house.” He rolled his eyes. “I am more responsible than my sister even if I’m younger.”
“Liar,” a girl said as she walked into the kitchen. She gave Jack a long look. Sydney had blond hair like her mother, but her eyes were a warm golden brown.
“This is Uncle Logan’s friend Jack,” Cody piped up. “That’s Sydney. She’s not a morning person.”
“Shut up,” Sydney said and poured a cup of coffee. Then she added a hefty amount of milk and honey.
Cody didn’t seem phased by his sister’s comment and continued talking to Jack as if they had been friends for years. Sydney sat at the table and stared at the broken dishes and bowls in the corner.
“Hey, buddy, you think you can finish up the bacon without incident?” Jack said.
“Sure, it’s almost done!”
Jack walked over to Sydney and said, “Where do you keep the broom?”
“Pantry,” she said glumly.
Jack retrieved the broom and dustpan and found a heavy-duty black garbage bag. He handed the bag to Sydney and said, “Can you hold that for me?”
She sighed, took the bag, opened it.
Jack swept up the mess, setting aside a few larger pieces that hadn’t completely shattered—there was a chance they could be repaired. In ten minutes, the room was clean, and Cody said, “Sydney, tell Mom breakfast is ready.”
Cody happily set the table, then poured real maple syrup into a small carafe and warmed it in the microwave.
Sydney and Laura came back in and Laura said, “Cody—”
“Jack cooked with me, promise!”
Laura glanced at Jack. He couldn’t read her expression. He didn’t want to upset her, he just wanted to make her day less stressful.
Laura looked at the bag he’d swept up, and the row of pieces that Jack felt might be salvageable. “You really didn’t have to do all this,” she said quietly.
“I don’t mind,” he said. “Let’s eat, then maybe I can ask you a few questions?”
“That’s fine,” she said. “Thanks, Jack, Cody, for making breakfast. I’m actually starving.”
They ate and Cody had dozens of questions about what Jack did. He answered them. Sydney listened, but didn’t contribute much to the conversation.
When they were done, Jack started to help Sydney clear the table, when Laura said, “Cody, would you mind helping your sister? Jack and I need to talk about the break-in.”
“Okay,” he said, not quite as cheerful as he’d been when he was cooking.
“Mom,” Sydney said, “did you talk to Dad?”
“I left him two messages last night,” Laura said.
