Interrupting my daydreaming while I clean up our cookie-mixing mess, Grey comes in from splitting wood, shirtless and smelling like him.
“I was going to jump in the lake, but it started drizzling. Glad for it, too, because it smells like sugar cookie sunshine in here.” He peeks in the oven and then kisses me on the head while I pass him a tall glass of water.
Grey sits on the floor for a few minutes with Sonny while he plays with his toy cars.
When the oven timer dings, Grey peeks out the window. “Still raining.”
“I was hoping for sunshine today. A dip in the lake sounds good.”
“You’re as bright and sweet as can be. Where do you get your endurance? Your sunshine on cloudy days? You’ve been through so much.”
My shoulders bounce because I’m not entirely sure, and when I speak, my answer is almost in the form of a question. “Grace. The desire to do the right thing. To give. The diagnosis put things in perspective. I could’ve let the distress and fear consume me. Some nights when I was alone and waiting for test results, it did. But the sun came up the next morning. I carriedon.” I glance at Sonny. “Plus, this life isn’t only about me, me, me. It’s about you, us, neighbors, well, if we had any. Friends. Family. Strangers on the street who need a smile and a kind word.”
My phone beeps, interrupting my stream of thought. Likely, it’s Todd, so I ignore it. He mentioned settling some debt recently, and all I have is a little bit of money left from my Blancbourg paychecks. He can’t get blood from a stone. Then again, he has enough money to never work another day in his life.
No, this is about power, control, and my connection to my father.
Grey nods in response to my answer. “And maybe cookies too, because if so, I’m going to form a new habit.”
“A cookie habit?” I ask, playfully.
“That and ayouhabit. I was thinking, I haven’t been on a proper vacation in years and even though technically the cabin is home, I feel more relaxed than I have in a long time. I think you’re wearing off on me, Everly.”
“That’s better than wearing you out.” Because that’s about where I am with Todd. My stomach knots when my phone beeps again. I should just block him, but then I’d have to hire a lawyer to do the communicating and although he might be able to afford the hourly rate, I cannot.
All the same, I power down my phone and leave it off for the night. Slowly, the knots inside untangle, easy enough with my thankful three: Grey, Sonny, and cookies. At last, I relax while Grey and I play cards by candlelight.
And fine, I admit it. We make out too.
The next morning, I wake to fresh flowers, a word puzzle I solve before getting out of bed, quickly recognizing the words for car, truck, and blueberry—Sonny’s favorites as well as learning some new ones: cookie, dough, and hug.
When I get downstairs, I kiss Grey on the cheek and nab a piece of bacon from the skillet.
“Good morning, gorgeous,” he says.
“Good morning, handsome,” I reply.
Sonny replies with the same in Norwegian and we all laugh.
“I’m sorry I’m not more of a morning person,” I say.
“What do you mean? You’re not grouchy. Upon waking, the PS ladies would say you’re as pleasant as pie.”
“No, I mean, I’m sorry that I don’t get up earlier. I think it’s because, for the first half of my life, I had to get up well before the sun. Usually, at four a.m. and I’m making up for the lost time.”
“That’s harsh but relatable. I’ve been doing my workouts well before you and Sonny get up. But I can understand why you’d want to sleep in a bit.” Grey glances at the clock. “It’s only eight. This still counts as the morning.”
I wrap my arms around him, not even coming close to clasping my fingers. “I guess I don’t want to miss anything.”
“I don’t mind at all that you get a little extra beauty sleep,” Grey says, pecking me on the cheek when I steal another piece of bacon.
I share it with Sonny and kiss the top of his head.
“Even though Bran was the one who joined the military, Dad drilled an early morning wake-up call into us early on. We were up with the sun, spent time in prayer, and then did a workout. Not much has changed.” A lopsided smile slides onto his face. “Actually, everything has, and I’m here for it.”
“And I’m here for breakfast,” I say, joking. “What do we have on the menu this morning, Chef Adams?”
“Your standard bacon and eggs plus a blackberry, sweet potato, and fresh greens salad.” He sprinkles a bit of granola over the top. “And when I say fresh, I mean it. Sonny and I picked everything twenty minutes ago.”
