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“On the contrary.”
I leaned against the counter and watched her scoop the batter from the bowl before pouring it into the hot pan.
“You know, you could really do with some Christmas decorations around here.”
I looked around the bare apartment and smiled. “You think?”
“Yeah, even I faked it.”
“Fake it till you make it.”
Daisy chuckled. “Always been my motto. Now, watch this.”
She took the skillet and waved it back and forth before flipping the pancake in the air and catching it back in the skillet. I snapped a photo of her instantly and couldn’t believe what I’d caught in action. Daisy looked adorable in the shot.
Daisy grinned at me. “Impressed?”
“Extremely.” I laughed. “And now I get to keep it forever.”
Daisy chuckled. “My brother taught me that. He figured out how to do it when he was like thirteen. Whenever I tried to do his infamous flip, the batter would explode everywhere. But then I made it my mission.”
I smiled, knowing that this was Daisy’s way of slowly opening up to me, and I felt extremely privileged.
She slid the first pancake onto a plate, opened the oven, placed three pieces of bacon next to the pancake, and handed me the plate.
“Syrup and butter are on the table.”
“Thanks.” I took a seat, watching Daisy make another pancake.
“Anyway, my brother became the man of the house as soon as he figured out that we didn’t have one,” she continued. “So, you can imagine what it was like having a seven-year-old barking orders, changing lightbulbs, and telling me to clean up my toys.”
“Was he older or younger?”
“Ethan was one year older than me.” She smiled, brushing some hair back from her face as she took the skillet and flipped the pancake. “We were both home from college when the accident happened. My mom was so happy to have us both home for the holidays.”
An ache grew in my chest. “I bet.”
A smile touched her lips as she slid her pancake onto a plate and plopped some bacon next to it. She walked over and sat across from me as I spread butter on my pancake.
I took a bite, and the pancake melted in my mouth. “So good, Daisy.”
She grinned and poured syrup onto her pancake right when my phone rang.
I froze, remembering I never dealt with Brielle’s message and hoped it wasn’t her again.
Relief flooded through me when I saw my sister’s name pop up on the screen.
“It’s Evie, my sister,” I told Daisy as I answered the cell on speaker.
“Who are you talking to so early in the morning?” my sister teased.
“Just a friend who’s staying here for a week. Why?”
“It sounded like a she.” Evie chuckled. “And you don’t ever have asheover when I call.”
My hands fumbled for the phone to take my sister off speaker, but Daisy’s brows rose. With everything she’d shared with me this morning, the least I could do was let myself get roasted by my sister.
“She’s filling in at the bar,” I explained.
