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I smile and wave her off, “It was no problem. I'm just glad I was able to help out. He's a great kid, Scar."
Her eyes quickly darted away, following the direction of the hallway where Shaun had just disappeared. She nods, a faint smile playing across her lips. "Yeah, he is."
I reached out and brushed her hair away from her face. "Are you sure everything is okay?" I ask with concern.
She runs her hands through her hair and blows out a breath. "I don't know, Ricky. I don't know," she confesses in a whisper.
From the look in her eyes, it was clear to me that she was struggling. Her expression was heavy with uncertainty, and it was as if the weight of the world was bearing down on her shoulders. I felt a deep sense of empathy for her, and I longed to help her navigate through the darkness that she was experiencing, just like when we were younger.
"You can tell me anything. I am always here for you," I reassure her with a gentle voice, hoping to bring some solace to her troubled mind. "I know things are unfinished between us, but just know that me being there for you never changed. I'm still your Peter Pan." I flashed her a lopsided grin.
Her face lit up with a smile, and for a moment, the tension gripping her seemed to dissipate. "Thank you."
"So," I rub my hands together in anticipation. "What's for dinner?"
She lets out a laugh and shakes her head. "One of Shaun's favorites," Scar says, standing up. Her shirt lifts as she does, revealing a sliver of her skin and her belly button ring. I groan inwardly, trying to suppress my desire.
"Are you okay?" she asks, raising her eyebrows.
I clear my throat. "Yes, I'm fine. So, what's his favorite meal?" I ask, changing the subject.
Scar starts to walk toward the kitchen, and I follow like a lost puppy. "Macaroni cheese and hotdogs, but his most favorite is a toasted peanut butter sandwich with bacon and pickles. And for dessert, we're making homemade pudding with..."
"Crumbles of Oreo cookie," I finish for her, feeling nostalgia run through me. All my favorite foods that Scar used to make for me. Now, they are Shaun's favorites. If that's not a kick in the balls, I don't know what is.
Scar doesn't look at me as she rummages through the fridge, grabbing all the ingredients she needs. After a moment, she faces me and takes a deep breath. "Yeah," she says, her voice low. "You were always on my mind. So, one day, I made it for him on your birthday. Ever since then, he couldn't get enough of it."
A knot of emotions forms in my chest, making breathing difficult. My throat feels tight, and my voice comes out as a hoarse whisper. "Scar," I manage to utter, my heart pounding with a mix of excitement.
"I'm ready!" Shaun bursts into the kitchen with his hands in the air, wearing an apron that readsI'm Mom's Superhero Chef. I chuckle to myself.
"Okay, monster," Scar says, walking over to him. "What job do you want to give Ricky?”
Shaun looks at me before running back to his mom. "Bacon," he says, bobbing his head excitedly.
"Are you sure? That's your favorite part," Scar says, smiling at the boy.
"I want to show him," Shaun says with determination.
"Okay." She turns to me. "You up for this?"
I laugh, feeling warmth in my chest. "Yeah, I'm ready."
Shaun claps his hands and jumps up and down with excitement. "Come on!" he says, grabbing my hand and leading me to the counter beside the sink.
Scar sets down a cutting board, a knife, a jar of pickles, and a package of bacon. "You let him use a knife?" I ask, surprised.
She rolls her eyes. "No, I don't. He likes to throw the bacon in the pan with the pickles."
Shaun drags a step stool over to me and climbs up to reach the counter. As he reaches for the bowl, Scar stops him.
"Let me smell your hands," she says with a warm smile and a playful look.
He holds his hands out, palms up, and wiggles his fingers. "See? All clean."
Scar grabs his hands and sniffs them before nodding in approval. "Good." She kisses the top of his head and walks over to the stove.
"Are you ready, Ricky?" he asks, looking up at me with his bright blue eyes.
