“Hey, bud,” I heard Grey say to Canyon.
“Mom’s making pancakes. Want some? I put extra chocolate.”
“You sure she wouldn’t mind?” Grey’s deep voice asked him.
“She didn’t know you were coming, and she was a little mad about it, but we always have extras,” he told him. I internally groaned. My son, the truth teller.
I found myself feeling shaky all of a sudden in picturing myself from Grey’s eyes. Almost ten years older, in my ratty jogger sweatpants and a ragged cut off t-shirt with my hair piled on top of my head in a messy bun with only traces of eye makeup leftover from yesterday. Great. He was going to think I peaked at 22. I tried to remind myself that it didn’t matter anyway. He was here for Canyon, not me.
He’d had enough of me a long time ago and he never looked back. I shouldn’t either. I busied myself with dumping more batter onto the griddle.
“Hullo,”
I looked up at him. He was in basketball shorts and a Griffins dry-fit short sleeve t-shirt and socks. Greyson Scott had taken his shoes off at my door. What a weird turn in life. He looked uncomfortable standing there at the edge of my kitchen, not making eye contact with me. All thoughts of a grudge went out the window when I saw him. It was the same when we were kids. I’d be mad at him, but as soon as I looked up at him and saw his face, half the anger would dissipate- I hated it at times- but he had that effect on me. He was such a large guy, but half the time he looked like a lost puppy that only needed a little affection to be so happy.
“Uh, hi,” I forced a smile, reminding myself he was here to help Canyon. “Want some?”
“Sure, always up for free food,” he said quietly. Still looking unsure he made his way towards the kitchen table where Canyon was pouring syrup on his pancakes.
“My mom makes the best ones,” Canyon told him. “They’re much better than restaurant ones… or Tammy’s,” he said, making a yuck face.
“Canyon, be nice,” I warned, but I couldn’t help stifling a laugh. My bud was always on my side.
Tammy was Kevin’s girlfriend.
“I gag when I eat at Tammy’s,” I heard Canyon whisper and then look at me through the corner of his little eyes, making sure that I heard it.
“Your uh, Mom’s pancakes have always been good,” Grey said, sounding uneasy.
“You’ve had them?” Canyon asked curiously.
I found myself trying to stay busy in the kitchen to avoid eye contact with either of them.
“Many times,” Grey’s laugh made a low rumble. “She ever put marshmallows in them for you?”
“The little, tiny kind!” Canyon said.
“Yeah,” Grey chuckled again. “I taught her that.”
I felt my face blush. I focused on looking down because I did not want to meet his gaze.
“She only makes them sometimes for special stuff,” Canyon pouted. He imitated me then in a girly voice saying, “ooh! too much sugar!” Which only caused Grey to laugh more. Even after all these years, the sound of his voice stirred something inside of me and I wanted to shut it down.
Wanting to keep myself busy, I started to clean up the batter when I slammed my hip on the corner of my kitchen island. The hit caused me to drop the dirty glass measuring cup and it shattered on the floor next to me. I leaned down and held my hip bone with a wince.
Grey was up in an instant, moving toward me and I saw Canyon start to leave his seat.
“No, honey, there’s glass over here, stay put, okay?” I winced.
A second later, I felt a touch on my hip and I jumped away from it, causing a jolt of pain to shoot through me.
A low rumble of a laugh came from behind me, “Easy, it’s just me,” Grey said with wide eyes, and I felt his warmth move closer to me again.
If only he knew, I thought wryly, and shut my eyes against the throbbing pain. He tried again then, and I let him. His strong, calloused hand rubbed over my right hip bone. If the pain didn’t make me feel like crying, the nostalgia did.
“Feel okay?” he said in a low tone.
I swallowed hard. I didn’t want his warm grip to leave my body. It felt so safe and calming. How pathetic of me. I had to remind myself he had left me in the dust. Where was my dignity?
