Page 112 of Her Unexpected Joy

I'd noticed that before. The counters were at the right height, the pans were heavy and well-seasoned, and everything was where it made sense to be.

James sat at the kitchen table in his dinosaur pajamas with his Ankylosaurus in front of him, giving me a running commentary on armored tail clubs while I mixed the batter. Adam leaned against the counter with coffee, contributing nothing, watching everything.

"The tail club is actually called a knob," James said. "Some people call it a club, but the real word is a knob."

"Knob," I confirmed. "Got it."

"It could break bones." He considered this. "Do you want to see how the tail moves?"

"Show me in a minute. My hands are in the batter right now."

“Okey-doke.”

The chocolate chips went in. I stirred. The first pancake hit the pan and the kitchen filled with pancake aroma.

"Miss Zoe?"

"Mm."

"Next time you sleep over can you sleep in my bed? It’s small, but I could make room. You’d like my racecar bed. That way we could talk at night. I have a lot of good stuff to talk about."

I turned to look at him. You had to give him credit for logic. I looked at Adam. I gave him the he’s your son look.

Adam, who had just lifted his coffee mug, grunted like he was briefly reconsidering all of his life’s choices.

"Buddy," he started.

"It makes sense," James said. "Because then I would get to talk to Miss Zoe at night, and Miss Zoe and I could have breakfast already started in the morning when you woke up. Isn’t that good?" His smile could have powered all of Jasper Creek.

I flipped the pancake. It was perfectly golden. I took a moment to appreciate that, because I needed it.

"That's a very thoughtful plan," I said.

"Thank you."

"Can I think about the logistics?" I asked.

Adam caught my eye over the top of James's head. His face was somewhere between mortified and completely at a loss, which I found hysterical. He was so good at everything. It was nice when the four-year-old got him.