Page 54 of Open Arms

I stretched beneath the sheets, careful not to disturb him. The bed was a cocoon of comfort, his scent wrapped around me like a promise. Just another minute, I told myself, savoring the quiet contentment that hummed through my veins. It felt like I’d finally found a slice of happiness that was all mine—ours.

With one last stretch, I edged out of bed, wincing at the slight chill of the room compared to the lingering heat of Mason’s embrace. On tiptoes, I padded across the wooden floor, which thankfully didn’t betray a single creak. A glance over my shoulder showed Mason still in the throes of sleep, a faint smile curving his lips. Was he dreaming? Maybe about us?

My heart did a little pirouette at the thought.

Today, I wanted to do something sweet for him—and Abby too. Surprise them with breakfast. I knew that their weekday breakfasts were usually quick bowls of cereal or toast and fruit. I figured I could do better than that.

I imagined Abby’s bright-eyed excitement, the way she’d probably squeal with excitement over surprise pancakes, and how Mason’s eyes would light up with that mix of amusement and love he reserved just for her. They deserved it, this small token of my growing affection.

Reaching the door, I allowed myself a final look at Mason’s peaceful form. Then, slipping through the doorway, I set out on my mission. I could already taste the joy it would bring.

The kitchen greeted me with the quiet hum of the refrigerator and the faintest light filtering through the half-closed blinds. I paused for a moment, letting my eyes adjust, before diving into the cupboards with gusto. Flour, baking powder, sugar—the basics for pancakes lined up like soldiers on the counter. Eggs and milk followed, plucked from the fridge with a practiced hand.

With each ingredient, I measured and mixed, a pinch of salt here, a dash of vanilla there. The batter came together smoothly under my whisk, the rhythm soothing any lingering nerves about my culinary adventure. I preheated the skillet, the sizzle of the first test pancake a gentle promise of the breakfast to come.

Moving on to setting the table, I pulled plates from the cabinet—one for Abby, one for Mason, and one for me. Each plate was placed with precision, flanked by utensils that gleamed softly in the morning light. Napkins folded neatly, just the way my Mom had taught me to do it all those years ago.

“Perfect,” I murmured, surveying the scene.

A tiny thrill danced in my chest at the thought of their surprise. Even as I laid out the glasses, filling them halfwaywith orange juice, I couldn’t help but smile—the kind that starts deep in your soul and doesn’t fade even when you try to stifle it.

I heard heavy footsteps on the kitchen stairs, and turned to see a sleepy Mason appear, a confused smile stretching across his face.

“What’s all this?”

I stirred the batter. “Just a little surprise for you guys.”

He approached me from behind, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing my neck.

“You’re amazing, you know that?”

I leaned back into him, savoring his warmth. “Well I woke up feeling so lucky. So I wanted to do something nice for my two favorite people.”

His low chuckle rumbled against me. “I think we’re the lucky ones here.” He planted a soft kiss below my ear before pulling away. “I’ll go wake up the munchkin.”

I smiled as he headed upstairs, the padding of his bare feet fading away. Turning my attention back to the stove, I scooped another golden brown pancake onto the growing stack. The batter was nearly gone now. I had made plenty—Abby could put away an impressive number of pancakes for a six-year-old.

The clatter of footsteps barreled down the stairs, bursting into the kitchen with all the contained chaos of an excited child.

“Pancakes!” Abby cheered, nearly skidding across the floor in her unicorn pajamas before Mason caught her around the middle

“Easy there, kiddo,” Mason chuckled, lifting Abby off her feet with practiced ease. Her enthusiastic energy filled the kitchen like the morning sunshine streaming through the windows.

I looked over my shoulder, giving them both a playful grin. “I hope you like chocolate chip. We’ve got a big stack here ready to go!”

“My favorite!” Abby wiggled in Mason’s arms until he set herdown, and she scrambled up onto one of the chairs. Her little legs swung back and forth, barely brushing the floor.

Mason shot me an appreciative smile as he joined Abby at the table. “You really outdid yourself here, Chloe. This looks amazing.”

His praise warmed me from the inside out. I divvied up the pancakes between their plates, adding a generous pat of butter on top. The chocolate chips were already melting into the fluffy cakes.

“Dig in.”

I watched with quiet joy as Abby and Mason enthusiastically tucked into their pancakes. The kitchen filled with the happy sounds of their enjoyment—Abby’s delighted “Mmm!”s between big bites, Mason’s deep hum of appreciation, and the melodic clink of forks on plates.

Abby was a nonstop chatterbox, already recounting a vivid dream she’d had about riding a unicorn through a field of kittens. Mason listened attentively, eyebrows raised in amusement, as he steadily worked his way through the stack of pancakes. A dollop of syrup clung to Abby’s chin, making me smile.

“These are the best pancakes ever!” Abby declared, shoveling another big bite into her mouth. “They’re like a bazillion times better than the yucky cereal Daddy makes.”

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