“Breakfast?” I confirmed, my stomach wide awake and paying attention.
“Bacon, eggs, pancakes, hash browns, and sausage.”
“I had all that stuff in there?” I asked amazed, pointing at the fridge.
Mom laughed and beside me, Dad shook his head. “You had nothing in there, Hayden. If you weren’t coming off a week of night shifts, we’d be having a serious discussion about looking after yourself, but I think I’ll let you off the hook.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“This time, Hayden. But if I come over again and find half a bag of crisps and a six-pack of beer are the only staples in your home, I won’t be in such a forgiving mood,” Mom threatened and I couldn’t help but smile. Mom might’ve talked a big game, but I was mommy’s baby boy. If my freezer was empty, she’d keep filling it until she couldn’t fit any more in. It was who she was. Mom was a carer and right now, I appreciated her more than I could say.
“Yes, Mom,” I agreed automatically, hiding my smile behind the rim of the mug she’d slid in front of me.
While she cooked, I sipped my coffee, loving the aroma and the strong bitterness as it hit my tongue. Wait up!
“Mom!”
“Yes, sweetie?”
“Where did the coffee maker come from?”
I didn’t have a coffee maker. If I drank coffee at home, which I tried to avoid as much as possible, it was that disgusting instant shit. Stuff that tasted like tar and held all the appeal of sludge, the only reason I drank it was desperation.
“It was in one of the boxes…” Mom began and I spun in my seat.
That’s what was different.
“Where are the boxes?” I questioned nervously.
“We unpacked for you, Hayden,” Dad offered.
“Why?”
What was happening here? Why were my parents here, cooking me breakfast and unpacking my shit?
“Because, Hayden, it's time.”
“Time for what?” I snapped, setting my mug down on the counter, ignoring the splash that slopped over the side and bouncing back to my feet.
“Time for you to start living again,” Mom said softly.
I knew they were doing what they thought was right. Everything they did was because they loved me. Deep down I knew that, but right now I was beyond pissed. Just because they thought I was living my life the wrong way, didn’t mean I needed them to swoop in and take over. Sure, I wasn’t doing a bang-up job right now, but I was still kicking.
“Do I have time for a quick shower before breakfast?” I asked, gritting it out through my clenched jaw.
Mom was pouring pancake batter and looking everywhere but at me. “Sure, Hayden. Plenty of time,” Dad confirmed.
Without wasting another second, I headed down the hallway, unbuttoning my shirt as I went. I was hoping a shower would calm me down so I could just appreciate the fact they were trying to help.
As I went to step out of the room, I heard Mom say to Dad in that hurt, broken voice I’d do anything to avoid, “I shouldn’t have overstepped. He’s so hurt.” Just hearing her pain made me want to go back in there, apologize, and give her a big hug. And I would. But first, I’d get cleaned up.
When I emerged, everything was ready and Mom and Dad had their heads together, talking quietly.
“I’m sorry I was an ass,” I apologized, getting it out quickly, wanting to clear the air.
“No, Hayden. You don’t have anything to apologize for. We’re the ones who overstepped…”
“It needed to be done.”
