Page 86 of The Promises We Were Never Meant To Keep

“S’all good.” He doesn’t look at me as he slides the pan from the stove and into the sink.

My thirteen-year-old son washes the breakfast dishes.

I should feel proud, and I am. I have a kind, responsible child who takes note of his surroundings and acts.

But deeper than the pride, like a thorn imbedded into the tatters of my heart, I feel the shard of worry that I’m harming my son. That I’m failing him.

Because he is only thirteen. He deserves to be as carefree as his friends.

But here he is, taking care of us.

Sliding from my chair, my appetite lost, I carry my eggs to the sink. I’m about to dump them when Owen stops me. “I’ll eat those if you don’t want them.”

A prickly chill sweeps down the length of my spine. Like the kind before you’re violently sick. I palm my belly as I watch my little boy eat my remaining eggs just like his father used to do.

He cocks a grin at me that is jarringly older than his years. “Can’t let it go to waste.”

Tate’s words. Once upon a time, I would have responded by calling him a garburator.

8

GET THROUGH IN ONE PIECE

APRIL 2023 – PRESENT DAY

After my morning, a treat from Cherry’s is well deserved. Not only do I get my maple latte, but I order a whole box of sweet treats.

I have every intention of weighing down my emotions with bricks of chocolaty glazed croissants.

To say I shouldn’t have fed Thing One before doing her hair is an understatement.

I’ve never been more relieved to blow her our morning kiss through the daycare window than I was today. We both need this break, honestly.

“Good morning.” Elise smiles brightly as I wrestle my way to my desk, holding the coffee, treats, and my purse.

Elise takes the coffee. “Let me help.”

“Thanks.” I slide the box of sweets onto the corner of the desk and turn to my mother-in-law and friend. I sigh. Heavily.

She hands me one of the cups. “Is this one for me?”

I nod as I bring my cup to my lips and drink deeply. Then I sigh again.

She waits, brow raised. “Long morning?”

“We re-enacted World War Two with hairbrushes.”

Elise winces. “Mabel doesn’t like her hair brushed.”

I give Elise a pointed glare. “You’ve seen that child in the morning. She looks like she’s taking a stand for homeless birds everywhere.”

Elise snickers. “It’s a good cause.”

“Don’t,” I warn, flipping the lid off the box and plucking a treat. I take a big bite and frown as I notice the closed door of Herman’s office. “Is Herman here?”

“He’s here.” Elise looks suddenly guilty. I feel immediately suspicious. I eye her shifty eyes that abruptly refuse to meet mine and frown at the pink that floods her cheeks.

“Is he in a meeting?” God, this has got to be the best croissant Cherry has ever made.