I snickered. “Like the dead.”
“That’s not funny.”
“I didn’t realize I had cracked a joke.”
I peeked over at Mom, but I found her sharp stare boring a hole in my face.
“I won’t say it again,” I said.
“We thought you were dead there for a while.”
“Honestly? I thought I was, too.”
She tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Who are these men that you were with? You know, that you keep mentioning.”
I peered down into my coffee as steam swirled up from the top. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does to us.”
“Why?”
“Because we owe them for keeping you safe.”
I took a long pull from the mug as the lawn mower engine grew closer to the edges of the house. “It doesn’t matter now. They did what they needed to do, found what they needed to find, and now it’s back to business as usual.”
“And for you?”
“I was talking about me.”
“I don’t think you were.”
I slowly peered over my shoulder at her. “You’re doing that thing again.”
“The Mom thing?”
“The thing where you act like you don’t know anything, but you know everything and you’re waiting for me to say it.”
She shrugged as a sly grin crossed her face. “Because sometimes I feel like you need to say it out loud.”
I snickered as I watched her retrieve a mug of coffee for herself. “Don’t pull that trick on me. I just did that with you yesterday.”
“And where do you think you learned it from?”
I took another sip of my coffee. “Touché.”
She giggled and sat down beside me at the table. “Well, whoever they are, if you ever want to talk about them, just know that we’re here. We owe them for keeping you safe.”
I listened as Dad continued to move that mower across the yard, kicking up a fresh scent that almost brought tears to my eyes. The rays of sun illuminated my face, warming me from head to toe as caffeine woke up my sore muscles. Mom and I stood there, her arm linked with mine, enjoying coffee the way that we always had over the years.
Sitting at a table, listening to the only non-caffeinated person in our family buzz around outside at nine in the morning without an ounce of coffee in his system.
“He’s a freak of nature, you know,” Mom muttered as she polished off her coffee.
I grinned. “You and him, both.”
“Hey, now.”
“Don’t tell me you’re not a tad bit off for wanting to put barbecue sauce on your scrambled eggs.”
