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“I hope he was well beha—.”
A waitress brought our meals and set them down, cutting me short mid-sentence.
“Thank you.”
I dug into the food and moaned at the chewiness and burst of flavor. The diner wasn’t popular as such, but the food was great. The chicken breast was to die for—crispy on the outside, with a soft, chewy inside. And the soup was absolutely delicious.
“Baby, I can’t get over this taste,” Malcolm moaned, relishing the meal.
“Neither can I.”
Ding!
I fished for my phone in my purse and looked at the screen. My ears rang in alarm at the words on the screen.
“Baby, where did you say Jason was again?”
“I left him home with the boys.”
“Why then did I just get a text that he’s home alone and scared?”
I was fuming at that point. I knew Malcolm had his reservations when it came to my son, but I couldn’t believe he’d be so irresponsible. I grabbed some wipes and cleaned my hands. “I have to go.”
His hand shot out and held me. “Babe, I hate to say this, but Jason can’t keep coming between us. You always choose him.”
I stared at him incredulously, “This isn’t a fucking competition. My son is alone and scared.”
He let me go, and a distant look settled over his face. “If you leave now, we’re done,” he said with a determined frown. I was bewildered. I searched his face for any trace of a joke. There was none. With a pained expression, I took off the large silver band and dropped it in front of him. No more words needed to be said as I stormed out of the diner, accompanied by nothing but the sound of my breaking heart.
- LIKE MOTH TO FLAME
ADRIAN BLACK
“Aurora, why are you picking at your breakfast?” I tried to keep the venom from my voice. I’d had a hard-enough time whipping up the meal. Confused as to what to feed a five-year-old for breakfast, I’d resorted to the internet. Several food blogs suggested pancakes, eggs, and sausages. So, although I’d never made such carefully planned kiddies’ meals before, I watched a few YouTube tutorials and made pancakes—if you can call the irregular and flabby pieces of flour that. In my defense, I’d followed through every step keenly and sure didn’t do anything wrong, but for some weird reason, my result looked nothing like the ones in the tutorial, and I was running late.
That was my way of fixing it. Yesterday, I returned to John’s Creek with the girls after Sammy decided to have Malory move in with her.
“It doesn’t taste like Granny’s pancakes,” she said in a timid voice. With a soft sigh, I crouched down beside her and tucked a few stray strands of hair behind her ear.
“Baby, I know. But you have to eat.”
“Granny always made them creamy,” Rose chirped.
“And round,” Aurora confirmed.
Rose stabbed at the sorry excuse of a meal with her fork and gave silly giggles. She looked exactly like their mom, all positive and cheery, regardless of the situation. Dana was optimistic even in the face of death. She never stopped smiling, and I saw traces of her in both of our girls. While Rose had her charming smile and positive attitude, Aurora was her spitting image. Both girls actually shared a resemblance with her. Aurora’s was just cannier.
“Okay. What would you rather eat?” I quizzed, hoping to God I don’t live to regret asking.
“Frosted flakes,” both girls chanted happily, throwing their hands in the air in unbridled excitement. I scratched my head nervously. I hated to do this, but there was no avoiding it.
“Darlings, we are out of frosted flakes.”
As soon as the words left my mouth, their shoulders sagged, and the excitement appeared to fizzle out. “But I will pick up some and anything else you girls want on my way back,” I quickly added, but apparently not quick enough, as the disappointed look stayed etched on their faces.
“We have Cap’n Crunch. Who wants some Cap’n Crunch and extra milk?”
Fortunately for me, it worked as both girls lit up. I grabbed what was left of the pancakes and emptied them into the trash. I snatched two clean bowls off the plate rack, spoons, and the cereal box. Setting them on the dining table, I returned to the kitchen to grab the milk. After dishing cereal and milk into both bowls, I pecked, first Aurora and then Rose, lightly on their foreheads.
