“How hard is it to get one thing fucking right?”
“Five!”
He looks up and finds Jeremy across the room.
“Four!”
He lets out a little sob.
“Three!”
“I just want to be with you.”
“Two!”
“Please …”
“One! Happy …”
Chapter twelve
“Uncle Sergio! Wake up!”
“Oof … morning, buddy.”
“Hiss …”
“Dad said to come get you. Breakfast is almost ready.”
“Mmm … breakfast. Can’t wait,” Sergio says with sarcasm that Henry is thankfully too young to catch dripping off his tongue. If Sergio never has to eat another pancake or slice of bacon, it’ll be too soon. The same goes for turkey burgers at the lodge or whiskey and bulk champagne at the New Year’s Eve party.
He’s suddenly struck with an idea. “Hey, Henry. Do you think you can ask your dad to make me an omelet?”
Henry looks at him with his eyebrows pinched together. His lips move as if he’s silently trying the word omelet out in his mouth for the first time. He tips his head to his shoulder. “What’s an omelet?”
“It’s like scrambled eggs with vegetables and stuff inside.”
Henry pulls a disgusted face that causes his nose to scrunch up. “Why would you wantthatinstead of pancakes?”
“In the mood for something different, I suppose.” Sergio laughs. “Could you ask him?”
Henry shrugs, flipping his hands up at shoulder height. “I guess so,” he says, then runs out the door with his thumbs raised enthusiastically in the air above his head.
“Thank you!” Sergio calls out after him, listening to Henry’s thundering footsteps as he goes careening down the hall past Adrien’s room and then down the stairs.
Stretching, Sergio sits up in bed and swings his legs out from underneath the covers. From where he’s sitting, he can see out the window; the sun is already shining brightly between the high aspen treetops and reflecting off the higher mountains glimmering behind them. He lets out a light breath, and a soft smile lingers on his lips. It’s quite peaceful here. He could even consider staying permanently. As long as he’s not trapped in this godforsaken loop.
He rises from his seat and steps closer to the window, taking in the full scene. As he’s scanning the horizon, the barn comes into view, and with it, Jeremy Owens standing right outside the main door with his mug of hot tea in his hands. He looks serene as he takes a sip. Sergio touches the glass with his fingertips, trailing Jeremy’s outline like he’s a picture on a screen. A photograph frozen in time.
“Are you coming?” Adrien asks from the doorway.
Sergio hastily removes his fingers from the glass, but he keeps his eyes on Jeremy for a second longer. “Yeah,” he says. “I’ll be right down.”
“You think you can order off-menu while you’re here?” Rose chides, her voice clipped and snippy when Sergio and Adrienstep into the kitchen. She’s finishing setting the table and is on her way to grabbing the coffee pot.
“It’s no big deal,” Holden says as he flips Sergio’s requested omelet in one pan, then a pancake in another. “I’m a man of many skills.”
“That may be true,” Rose says and kisses him on the cheek as she walks past with the coffee in hand. “But it still doesn’t mean Sergio gets to make demands.”
