Now I’m in the messy kitchen.
There are three stacks of pancakes on three separate plates, piled high with perfectly burnt bacon and mountains of scrambled eggs.
“We made strawberry banana pancakes, since they are your favorite,” Clover says softly. She takes two of the plates to the farm-style dining table and sets them down. She’s already poured three big glasses of cold, fresh orange juice.
“Y’all eat up,” she tells us, and Lennon and I don’t need to be told twice. We sit down at the table and I lean over to start cutting Lennon’s pancakes into pieces for her, but it’s already been done. Huh. She reaches for the syrup, and I help her pour it.
I notice that Clover’s seat still stays empty. She’s in the kitchen, cleaning up.
“Hey, I’ll be right back, okay, kiddo?” I kiss Lennon on the head as I get up.
I make my way to the kitchen and lean back against the counter, grabbing Clover by her wrist gently to get her to stop what she’s doing. I tug her in front of me.
Her eyes are red-rimmed. Damn.
“Hey, Clover Jane. Come eat with us.”
She sniffles, and it looks like she’s trying to suck her tears back into her eyes.
“I will, I just want to clean the kitchen real quick. I hoped to have it done by the time you got back, but we got caught up and lost track of time. I know you like things to be clean.”
“Did Mom put you up to this?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“What? No, of course not. Lennon was upset about not being able to have her pancake party. Mary does make some damn good pancakes, and I didn’t want Lennon to miss out on spending time with her, so I thought a video call might help.” She swipes the rest of the egg yolk with a paper towel and tosses it into the trash.
“I’m sorry about this morning, Clover. I didn’t mean for what I originally said to come off the way it did.”
“No, you were right,” she says quietly. “My life is a mess. I don’t have a home, or a job, or anything. I really expected Brynn to swoop in and save me.” She washes her hands and dries them with a kitchen towel.
“I’m stressed, and that’s not an excuse. I don’t know what you’ve been through the last thirteen years. I had no right to try to judge you.”
I pull her towards me and wrap my arms around her. God, it feels so fucking natural to have her right here.
“WHY ARE YALL HUGGIN'?” Lennon shouts from the dining room table, her mouth full of pancakes.
“I was a bit of a butthead to Clover this morning, and I want to take responsibility and tell her I’m sorry.”
I give Clover a quick squeeze before turning her around and gently pushing her towards the table.
We sit down and start eating.
“Did Dad hurt your feelings?” Lennon asks Clover quietly.
I’m not sure why I expect her to say no, maybe because I know that everyone else would, not wanting to get her involved.
“Yes, he did,” Clover admits truthfully. “Sometimes, people will hurt your feelings, and it’ll last a very, very long time. Sometimes, the hurt goes away fast. This is one of the little times where it just stings a bit. It’s important that we talk about those feelings, though, so the other person knows that we are hurt and they can work to be better.”
Lennon considers this. “Has Dad hurt your feelings in a big way before?”
A lump makes residence in my throat as Clover’s eyes meet mine sadly when she answers.
“Yeah, Lenny. He’s hurt my feelings in a big way before.”
Lennon’s eyes blaze in my direction before she looks back at Clover, leans over to her and whispers loudly.
“Then we won’t tell him he’s got flour all over his clothes.” She says.
The little shit.
