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“So you guys used to be orphans together?” Jenna says, cutting into her pancakes.
“They don’t call them that anymore,” her mom says. “And this is not an appropriate conversation for breakfast.”
“You told me if I had questions, I could ask.”
“Not now.”
I look over at Jenna. “What do you want to know?”
She glances at her mom, then back at me. “What happened to your parents?”
“My mom died a few months after I was born and my dad left me in a grocery store.”
Easton’s looking at me like he’s shocked that I told her that, but why wouldn’t I? I don’t care if she knows. And after what my dad just did to me, I no longer feel any emotion from that day he left me. I’m glad he took off. If I’d stayed with him, my life would’ve been even worse than it was with Ted.
“What do you mean he left?” Jenna asks. “Like he didn’t come back?”
“No. He took off. He didn’t want to take care of me anymore.”
“How old were you?”
“Four.”
“Not everyone’s meant to be a parent,” Penelope says, clearing her throat.
“What did you do?” Jenna asks. “When your dad took off?”
“I looked for him in the store. I couldn’t find him and got scared. I started running and knocked some stuff over. This man yelled at me and I got even more scared. Then I started crying and this lady came over and asked me what’s wrong. I told her I couldn’t find my dad. I waited there, thinking he’d come back, but he never did.”
“Excuse me,” Penelope says, racing out of the room.
“What’s up with Mom?” Jenna says to Easton.
“I don’t know.” He looks over at me. “You need anything?”
“No, I’m good. I really like the muffin.” I’ve only eaten half of it and already feel full, but if I could, I’d eat two or three more. I’ve never had homemade muffins, just the kind from a mix. The homemade ones are a lot better.
“Is that when you went to the orphanage?” Jenna asks.
“It’s a foster home, not an orphanage,” Easton says. “And you’ve asked her enough.”
“She asked me what I wanted to know.”
“Yeah, I went to the foster home after that,” I say. “That’s where I met Easton.”
“I already know that part. Mom told me.”
Penelope walks back into the kitchen. Her nose looks red like she’s been blowing it. “Sorry about that. My allergies are acting up.”
“You don’t have allergies in the winter,” Jenna says.
“You okay, Mom?” Easton asks.
She nods as she cleans a pan in the sink. “I’m fine. Go ahead and eat your breakfast.”
“Aren’t you going to eat?” Easton says.
“I’ve had enough. I’m not very hungry this morning.” She continues scrubbing the pan, her back to us.
