Page 27 of The Roadie
She wondered what was going on as she pulled on a pair of lounge pants and a tank top and slipped her feet into fuzzy slippers. Sliding open the door, the voices grew louder, and the scent of pancakes floated into the room. She followed the noise and delicious aroma down the corridor and stopped when she saw Brett at the stove. She had expected Angel to be in the kitchen making breakfast, although she had no idea why anyone would be up at this insane hour. But it was Brett flipping pancakes, entertaining the kids with his dramatic spatula technique.
Mason and Lucas sat on one side of the booth while Tessa sat on her knees across from them, stirring a bowl of pancake batter bigger than she was. She wore an oversize apron, which obviously belonged to her father. There was a picture of a spatula on the front and the words next to it read, “I’m Flipping Awesome”. Flour was everywhere, including on Tessa’s cheeks and in her dark hair. She was rattling on about blueberries, and Kira stopped to listen without any of them knowing she was in the adjacent area of the bus watching them.
“Make sure there are 14 blueberries in every pancake,” Tessa told Brett. “Make sure you count them. Don’t make a mistake.”
Mason wore a dimpled smile as he watched her. “But what if there’s only 10 blueberries in one of the pancakes, Tess?”
“Noooo! Fourteen!” Tessa insisted. “It has to be 14. That’s the right amount of blueberries for each pancake. Lucas said so.”
Kira loved the way Tessa idolized Lucas and took everything her big brother said as written law. And the playful banter the three-year-old shared with Mason, who was seven years her senior, was adorable. He was practically an older brother to the two younger kids. Mason doted on Tessa, and, with their shared aptitude for musical instruments, he and Lucas were best friends.
Brett placed a plate with a stack of pancakes on the table and waited for the kids to sample them. “Here you go. Fourteen blueberries per pancake, just like the lady instructed.”
Tessa stopped stirring the contents of the big bowl in front of her and inspected the plate. It appeared as if she was actually counting the blueberries, and Kira wondered if the little girl could even count that high.
Mason reached for a pancake with his fork, but Tessa pulled the plate away. “No. Lucas first. He’s my brother.”
“But I’m hungry,” Mason replied, with a soft-hearted giggle.
“Lucas first,” she insisted, as she pushed the plate toward her brother.
Lucas smiled at his little sister, then grabbed a pancake with his chubby fist and ate it like a cookie. His eyes grew wide, and he nodded his approval. “You make good pancakes, Tessa.”
Mason speared a pancake with his fork and took a bite. “Mmm. The best. You should be a chef, Tess.”
“What about me?” Brett asked. “I’m the one cooking over here. Don’t I get any of the credit?”
Lucas shook his head, vigilantly defending his sister. “Tessa made them. She put all the stuff in the bowl and mixed it together.”
“And let’s not forget the 14 blueberries per pancake,” Mason added, sweetly. “That’s Tessa’s recipe. That’s what makes these pancakes so fantastic.”
Tessa’s cheeks turn hot pink at the compliment, and she stopped stirring the batter. She tucked her chin into her chest and peeked up at Mason, suddenly shy.
Brett let out a lighthearted laugh and tickled the top of Tessa’s shoulder by her neck. “You little flirt. I think you’re sweet on Mason.”
Her cheeks flamed red as she kept her eyes on the bowl in her hands and began to stir its contents vigorously.
Mason smiled bashfully. “She is not.”
The bathroom door next to where Kira was standing opened, and Jessi stepped out. “Why are you up so early?” Kira asked.
Jessi leaned against the wall, covered her mouth as she yawned, and watched Brett with the kids. “I couldn’t leave Brett alone with all three of them. I was afraid they’d send him diving out the nearest window, even at 60 miles an hour.” She jutted her chin toward the kitchen. “But he’s great with them. Tessa wanted to flip the pancakes. The way she does when she helps Angel cook, and he holds her steady while she stands on a chair so she can reach. But Brett told her no.” A laugh bubbled from Jessi’s mouth. “You had to see her face. But he explained to her that she needed to mix the batter, because she was the only one he trusted to make it right. I didn’t expect her to fall for it, but she did. And you know how hard it is to change my daughter’s mind once she has something in her head. Does Brett have any little brothers or sisters?”
Kira shook her head. She really didn’t know that much about his personal life or extended family. “No. Only one brother who’s 19.”
“He’s so good with them,” Jessi commented. “And they love him.” She nudged Kira in the arm. “And he’s cooking! Hang onto this one, Kira. I can tell you, firsthand, how nice it is to have a man who cooks.”
