“Let’s hope your arms aren’t tired or you won’t be able to eat.”
“No,” she states as the music starts on the television for one of her movies, “my arms are good.”
“Good to know,” I toss back sarcastically as I mix all the ingredients together. I walk over, grabbing the cup of coffee and adding milk to it before I find the skillet. I’m making pancakes when I hear footsteps on the stairs and then look over to see Westley walking in. He’s wearing his boxers and a T-shirt, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Morning.” I smile at him.
“Morning,” he grumbles, walking straight for the couch and falling onto it. He reaches up to grab the other throw blanket to cover himself.
“I’m making pancakes, sausage, and scrambled eggs,” I tell him and then move to the fridge to grab the carton of eggs and the breakfast sausages. I mix the whole carton in a bowl before adding them to a frying pan, scrambling them while I flip the pancakes. Taking another small pan, I add the sausage into it. It takes me twenty-five minutes to have it all done, but I know they’ll demolish it in half the time. “Come and eat,” I say, and Nora is the first one off the couch.
She walks over to the stool she always sits on, pulling it out, and climbing onto it. “I want two,” she instructs me, and I place two on her plate, adding the syrup myself. The last time she had syrup to the rim. I cut her pancakes into pieces as Westley grabs his own plate and goes over to the stool.
Vincent walks in at that very moment. “Just in time,” I inform him, and he goes to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of orange juice before talking to me. His hair is sticking up all over the place. He’s dressed exactly like I am. He finishes the small bottle before turning to me. His breathing comes in pants from drinking the whole thing without stopping. “Morning.” He walks over and tosses the plastic bottle in the recycling bin before looking at what I made and grabbing a plate.
I wait until they finish grabbing their stuff before making myself a plate, which is mostly the eggs. Instead of sitting down, I stand up on the other side of the island, looking at the kids. “So,” I grab some eggs on my fork, “did you guys have fun yesterday?”
“Yeah,” Vincent says out loud, picking up a breakfast sausage on his fork and biting it. “I really liked the beginning.”
I smile at him. “Kirby’s sister is really cool,” Westley adds, and my ears perk up, as if I’m a dog and I just heard the mailman arrive.
“Kylie,” I say her name and my stomach tightens at the same time my cock stirs.
“Yeah,” Vincent agrees while Westley nods his head, “she showed me a cool high-five handshake.” He smirks. “She said we should do it every time you guys scored.”
“A high-five handshake?” I ask him, not sure I understand. He turns to Westley and they give each other a high-five then a side-five palm to palm, before doing it knuckle to knuckle, then fist bumping each other before turning and chest bumping each other.
“That’s cool.” I try not to make it seem that I’m really impressed with it. “It was nice of her.”
“She also helped me beat my level in my game,” Westley says, getting back on his stool to stick his fork in his pancakes, “but it took her like twenty tries and she refused to give it back to me until she did it.”
I laugh at his tone. “She smells nice,” Nora cuts into the conversation, not looking up from her plate, “and she’s pretty and she colors good.”
“Yeah,” I say, not adding in that she’s really fucking pretty and she smells even better.
“She’s cool,” Vincent repeats, before changing the subject. “Do we have to go to Mom’s house today?”
“Yeah, buddy,” I confirm, and he looks down and I wait for the other two to get up and put their dishes away before I turn to him. He must know that we’re going to have a talk because he doesn’t bother moving from his chair. “You two,” I tell Westley and Nora, “go get your teeth brushed and get dressed, and make sure you bring down all food items.” Nora skips to the stairs while Westley runs ahead of her. I look back at Vincent. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” he says, avoiding my eyes and then he must sense me staring at him. “It’s just…”
“Vincent,” I say his name, “whatever you have to say, you can say it.” He looks unsure. “Nothing is going to happen, I promise.”
“You won’t get mad?” he asks me and I have to lie to him.
“No,” I reply, knowing I’ll probably be pissed, but I’m going to have to push it aside for him.
“We were at Grandma and Grandpa’s,” he starts off and the back of my neck tingles. “We were going over for Sunday lunch and when we walked in, Auntie Claire was there.” He mentions my sister. “She saw Mom.” I inhale and I hold my breath. “She told her to stay the F”—he doesn’t say the word fuck—“away from her husband.”
“Buddy,” I start to say, not sure how the fuck I’m going to even spin this.
“Mom turned and left us there and then came back to pick us up after.” I exhale as he says it. “But then I heard Auntie Claire with Uncle Jeremy in the kitchen, and he said he hasn’t seen her in over a month.”
“Stop.” I hold up my hand. “That’s grown-up stuff, you shouldn’t have to even hear it.” I stop him before he continues what he heard. “I’m sorry you heard what you heard.”
“Did Mom cheat on you with Uncle Jeremy?” he asks me. I can either trash-talk his mother or I can be a man.
“Doesn’t matter,” I tell him. “What matters is that your mother and I love you guys.” Even saying the words, I want to pick up something and throw it across the room. “It sucks, buddy, to have to go back and forth to Mom’s house and to my house. I get it.” I smile at him sadly. “I hate when you guys aren’t here, but that’s the way it is.”
“What if I want to live with you?” I shake my head.
