My mother grinned at me. "I have every confidence you'll get through this."
"Yeah, but it's not going to be easy."
"I'm sure it won't, honey." She poured the eggs into a hot pan and mixed in some shredded cheese. "Would it be better if I asked Brody not to come over for Sunday lunch for a while?"
I sighed and drank more coffee. "No. Jacks loves coming to see you and Dad. It would hurt her."
This time when Mom smiled at me, it was tender. "You're a good person, Cam."
"Only because I had excellent examples," I replied.
Mom made more toast and buttered it while the eggs cooked. A few minutes later, she brought two plates over to the bar and set one in front of me. She grabbed some forks and sat next to me.
I took the fork she held out to me. "Thanks, Mom. For breakfast and...everything else."
She put a hand on my knee and squeezed gently. "You'll get through this and be just fine, Cam. I know it."
"Again, I had excellent examples."
Who knew that having breakfast with your mother could help the heartbreak?
Sierra stumbled into the kitchen as we took our first bite, her hair a rumpled mess. Her bleary eyes were barely cracked as she made her unsteady way to the coffee maker.
"Good morning, Sierra," my mother said.
Her only response was a grunt.
Mom and I shared a look and it was a struggle to bite back a laugh.
Sierra stuck a pod in the machine and turned it on. I got up from my chair and grabbed a mug from the cabinet and stuck it beneath the spout just in time to catch the first few drops of coffee.
"Thanks," Sierra whispered.
"You okay?" I asked.
"Too much pizza kept me awake last night."
"You mean it wasn't the text you were waiting on that came through at 2 a.m.?" I asked.
Her half-closed eyes shifted to me and they shone with sorrow and tears.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, touching her shoulder. "I didn't mean to upset you."
Her eyes closed and she took a deep breath. When they opened again, the tears were gone. "It's okay. I'm okay."
"I'm sorry I dumped on you as soon as you got home. Whatever it is—"
Sierra shook her head. "Not right now, okay? I can't talk about it now." She focused on the thin stream of coffee pouring into her cup, slowly but surely. "Go eat your breakfast before it gets cold."
I squeezed her arm gently and went back to the bar to sit down next to my mother. Sierra leaned over the counter in front of the coffee machine and put her head on her crossed arms. When it hissed its final bit of steam and the drips of coffee stopped, Sierra straightened, took the mug, and left the kitchen without another word.
"I see some things never change," my mom commented.
"Yeah. We prefer not to speak before coffee," I replied.
Mom laughed. "I don't know where Sierra gets it, but I know you got it from your father. He's a bear without his morning caffeine."
I lifted my coffee mug and waited for my mother to tap hers against it. "Here's to an awesome mother who makes coffee and breakfast for her daughter when she has a broken heart."
"I could do no less for my favorite daughter," she replied.
"I'm your only daughter, Mom."
"That doesn't automatically make you my favorite daughter though."
I hadn't thought I'd be able to laugh any time soon, but my mother proved me wrong.
She was definitely awesome. And I was lucky to have her.
