“Really?” they both answer, giggling at the same time.
“Never. I always flip the pancake off the pan and it ends up on the stove.”
The two of them exchange furtive whispers. “Maybe Daddy can show you how to make them one morning.”
“Maybe.”
Before, the thought of spending time with Marcus, any time at all, would have sent me running in the other direction. Now? Now, I want to spend any time I can with him.
I never thought that would happen
But until I figure out what this thing is between us, I do not need to entertain the idea of coming over in the morning. Or what we could be doing so I could wake up here.
I don’t think any of those thoughts at all.
Instead, I turn my attention back to the girls. “Okay. Do you want to help make the sauce?”
“Yes.”
Both of them jump down from their seats and start dumping things into the pan I pulled out.
A jar of sauce. A few seasonings. Clearly this isn’t the first time they’ve helped.
Sadie sits on the counter, stirring the sauce as it simmers. Sam drops the pasta into the pot.
“What’s your favorite dinner to make?” I ask them.
“My favorite is spaghetti,” Sam tells me.
“And I like pancakes,” Sadie says.
“That’s because you always get chocolate chips.” Sam rolls her eyes as I scoot her away from the stove with the water boiling.
“Chocolate chips?” I ask.
“Whoever tells the worst joke gets extra chocolate chips in their pancakes.” Sadie continues stirring the sauce before I cover the pan with the lid.
I laugh. “Bad jokes. Okay. What is a goodbadjoke?”
The girls hop down and go to whisper together before Sam asks, “Where does a rose sleep at night?”
I screw my face up in thought. “I don’t know. Tell me.”
“In a flowerbed,” Sadie says.
My laugh might be more exuberant than necessary, but I want these two to like me. “That’s a good one.”
“Do you have any bad jokes?” Sam asks.
“Knock Knock.”
“Who’s there?” Sadie replies.
“Orange.”
Sam laughs. “We’ve heard this one.”
“Well.” I grab the pot of pasta, dump it into the strainer before putting it back in the pot and tossing it with a little olive oil. “I don’t have many bad jokes.”
