This was the first time we’d drunk espressos together. I couldn’t stop staring at him as I inhaled the dark, bitter scent of the coffee he prepared for me. “You’re really not angry?”
Sam shook his head. “No, I’m really not angry.”
The rising sun cast playful shadows across his face, making his smile seem twice as bright.
Sunday couldn’t come soon enough.
Chapter Twelve
SAM
the days he lives for
As I rose on Saturday morning, the house still quiet, my thoughts strayed to Adri. He hadn’t been out of my mind since Quinn visited, and he’d disappeared for days. The staff had been ready to throw me out on day three.
Even the kids had noticed something was going on. Ella kept offering me cuddles, and none of them complained about the extra chores I gave them. Their quiet support helped me stay grounded. Evan would’ve taken me to task if I’d snapped at them.
When Adri had walked in yesterday, I was so relieved to see him again. That he hadn’t left… because of me. He’d seemed so distraught, and I hated that I’d made him feel that way. Made him think I was angry at him when I’d dumped our family 101 on him. And not even all of it.
I stretched and yawned as I shook myself out of my thoughts. I’d see him tomorrow. We’d talk then. Today was family day!
As the connecting door opened, I’d already finished a stack of banana pancakes. Alex carried an entire stuffed animal collection into the kitchen.
“Hold on, ace. What are you up to? We’re not taking those with us.”
“Of course not. I’m putting them in your laundry room. Mom promised to wash them, but our machine is already doing a load. You haven’t turned yours on yet, have you?”
“Nope. It’s all yours. But wait for Mom, okay?”
Alex heaved a sigh. “You sound just like her. Can’t pinky promise; got my hands full, but I won’t touch the machine, Pop.”
If I had any hands free, I’d be crossing my fingers behind my back. Instead, I listened for suspicious sounds or telltale soap suds until he reappeared and joined me at the counter.
“Yay! Banana pancakes.”
I laughed at his enthusiasm. We had banana pancakes every Saturday. “Where are your sisters?”
“Charlie can’t find her life vest, and Ella is putting on her skirt.”
Right. “What about Dad?”
“Packing the van.” He jumped off the barstool. “Almost forgot. He told me to get your bag.”
I pointed behind me with the spatula as Quinn and Julian came in.
“Alex. Dad’s asking about Pop’s bag.”
Alex hefted it above his head. “I got it,” he yelled, and ran through the connecting door.
I raised my hands above my head as the twins stereo-hugged me. “Morning, you two.”
“Morning, Pop.”
They reached around me and stole a pancake each—sneaky rugrats.
“Tsk. No stealing pancakes.” Why did it feel like I worked harder on my days off than I ever did at the café?
“I’m hungry,” Julian said with his mouth full. “I’m going to help Charlie findher life vest.”
