Font Size:

Page 111 of The Only Heart that Matters

Lifting her head from my shoulder, she snaps out of her melancholy, transforming into mom mode.

"Child, you are drenched! What happened to you?”

“Got caught in the rain.”

“Stay there. I’ll be back,” she says, springing to action.

“I’m fine,” I lie.

I’m far from fine, but she doesn’t need my shit right now.

In a flash, she’s back with towels in her hands. “Up you go.”

I stand, as instructed.

She throws one over my head, giving it a little rub, but as I have little hair to dry, she leaves it draped around my neck before handing me the other towel. Instructing me to dry myself, she heads into the kitchen. Cupboards open and close. The mixing bowl, whisk, and flour she sets out means she’s about to make her famous remedy for shit nights like tonight.

“How about some pancakes?”

“You don’t have to do that, Mom.”

“Nah, let’s have some pancakes.”

There’s a light in her eyes that wasn’t there when I arrived. Maybe she needs this as much as I do.

“Sounds perfect.”

Mom’s pancakes have always helped heal everyone else’s broken hearts. Maybe tonight they’re for her broken heart.

She mixes the ingredients and pours the first glob of batter in the pan when the all-knowing woman that she is takes me by surprise. “It’s Mia, isn’t it?”

“What?” I don’t know what else to say, too shocked to make sense of the conversation.

“You love her, don’t you?”

“Mom... I...”

“She loves you, too. I can see how things have changed between the two of you.”

“How? How do you know everything?”

“It’s a gift.”

“It’s frightening.”

She smiles. “So, if I’m right, what are you going to do about it, son?”

“There are complications we need to deal with before we can take things any further. It’s complicated.”

“Ah, so you know who his father is, then?”

What the? How? Does she have my house bugged? How is she so spot on?

“I do,” I say, cautiously.

She plates three perfectly round pancakes. I don’t know how she does it, but there’s never a wonky one. She places them in front of me, followed by butter and syrup.

“Eat up. I want to show you something.”


Articles you may like