“Coffee sounds great,” I whisper behind him, my voice still hoarse from last night.
“Why don’t I help you.” Jim tucks his hands under Jackson’s armpits and hoists him up, letting him stand on the counter to reach the cabinet where the mugs are kept. He keeps a hand on Jackson's back, steadying him, but his eyes are on me. My nose stings at the sight of him, at the idea that he came to check on us today even though I foolishly told him to leave last night.
“This one!” Jackson hands a mug over to Jim, and with his free arm Jim pulls Jackson down from the counter, running a hand over his hair to ruffle it.
“Good job.”
“I gotta pee!” Jackson breezes by me, out of the kitchen and down the hall. The moment his steps are behind me, my feet are unglued and I reach for Jim.
His arms are out, waiting for me and I rush to him, wrapping my arms around his center and burying my face into the crook of his shoulder. His arms come around my back, a hand cradling the back of my head, and he grips me tight. I inhale his scent, his deodorant and laundry soap and something else I can’t quite figure out, letting each one bring me back to earth.
“You were right,” I mutter against his skin, feeling the tears drip down my face. “Today feels like day one.”
“I wish I wasn’t right.” He squeezes me hard once before pulling back, letting go of me only long enough to bring both hands to my chin, tilting my face up to meet his. I want to shy away at his gaze, at his perusal of my completely make-up free skin in the broad daylight, but I’m too tired to fight it. The tears threaten to fall again, and I close my eyes, wrapping my arms around my core. Jim leans in, kissing his favorite freckle and moving to the other side to kiss my cheek, before his lips find mine.
“I don’t know if I can make it.” I whisper the words so softly, I’m not sure if he can hear them. Or if I even want him to hear them. It’s the first truly weak admission I’ve let myself think. “It’s harder than I thought.”
“We’ll make it,” he whispers. “Today is day one, all we can do is our best. If you need to cry today, let’s cry. If you want to stay so busy you don’t think about it much, I’ll find ways to keep us busy. Whatever you and Jackson need, I’m here to make sure you get it.” I nod along, soaking up his promises and letting him pull me into his arms again. He holds me tight, rocking us side to side and I melt into him, closing my eyes to the feeling until the smell of burnt pancakes fills the air.
“Oh shit.” he keeps one arm around me, turning to flip the pancake and cursing when it turns over black.
I move to stand behind him in my too small kitchen, wrapping my arms around his waist, my chest to his back. I bury my faceinto the space between his shoulder blades, and squeeze. He reaches a hand up to clasp mine over his chest, and I press my lips to his back, murmuring a series of soft thank yous.
My arms fall around his waist, and I let out a shaky exhale, followed by a few tears that I sniff away as I pull back. “What time did you get here?”
“You don’t want to know.” He reaches for the handle of the coffee pot, removing it from the carafe and pouring me a steaming cup.
I move to open the fridge door, pulling out the syrup and a can of whipped cream for the pancakes, bringing both to the table.
“I, uh…” He nervously rakes a hand over the back of his hair. “I kept thinking of you guys, wanting to know if you were really going to be okay. I couldn’t sleep, so around three this morning I said fuck it and drove here. I dozed in my car until I saw the flicker of the TV through the curtains. Jax let me in.”
“You slept all night in your car?”
“Not all night, just a few hours.”
I’ve never been so thankful for someone to ignore what I asked of them. I turn back to him, clasping his face in my hands and pulling his head down to mine, sealing our lips together.
“Ewwwwwww, gross.” Jackson fake gags, and I freeze, completely forgetting that he was in the room. “Are you guys going to be kissing all the time now?” He squishes his face in a disgusted look, and I smile my first real smile of the day.
“Who’s ready for pancakes?” Jim keeps one arm wrapped around me, turning to lift the foil off the plate, and I lean over his shoulder to admire his non-burnt pile.
“Oh cute! Mickey Mouse!”
He sets the foil to the side, an exasperated gasp leaving him. “Mickey Mouse?”
I look again at the round face, two small sort-of round ears resting on top. “Minnie Mouse?”
Jim puffs his cheeks. “Come on, Meg.”
When I look at the pancakes, and back to him with a shrug, he groans. “That’s Clark the Cub!”
I bite down on my bottom lip to stifle my laugh and grab my mug from the counter, bringing it to my lips for a slow sip. “Oh yeah…Clark…that was my next guess, I swear.”
I reach up to grab three plates from the cabinet as Jim makes a halfhearted attempt to swat my butt.
“Jackson, honey, come get your Clark the Mouse pancakes.”
Jackson climbs into his chair, reaching to grab the glass of juice Jim had set out for him.
