Page 69 of A World Without You
“I wish,” I say, crouching down to her level and running my hand over her head. “Sleep good?”
She nods, but her lips stay pursed as she studies me.
“How about pancakes?” Bennett suggests, and Josie’s hazel eyes brighten.
“But we never have time.”
I can tell she’s repeating Bennett’s reasoning for not making pancakes on other mornings when they’re running late. I smile at her as she climbs the stool next to me. She’s such a tiny thing—she makes every piece of furniture look like it belongs in a fun house as she maneuvers on it.
“We have time. I woke up extra early today.” Bennett eyes me as he speaks, and I flash a guilty smile.
His scowl is unmoving as he bends over to retrieve a mixing bowl and whisk and place them in front of his daughter, before grabbing pancake mix from the pantry. Josie starts pouring the mix into the bowl as he fills a liquid measuring cup with water.
I have the urge to help her, read the instructions, and correct her measurements, but I don’t. Instead, I watch Bennett as he watches his daughter. There’s a relaxed attitude in his posture, but he keeps his eyes on her like he’s ready to catch her if she messes up, spills, or dumps too much mixture in the bowl.
He does the same as she pours the water, and I watch from the barstool next to her. As she whisks the mixture into a perfect pancake consistency, I remark, “I am so impressed. No measuring, and you did it perfectly.”
Bennett chuckles as he fires up the griddle. “It’s amazing what you can perfect with a little freedom to make mistakes.”
I smile, fondness blooming in my chest at the sentiment. “Seriously, if it were me, we would eat pancakes for the rest of the month. I’d just keep adding too much water and then adding too much mix. Over and over.” I let out a small laugh, and Josie scrunches her nose at me with a toothless grin. I lean closer to her. “I do the same with spaghetti. I’m always feeding a family of eighteen even when it’s just me and...”
My voice trails, and my chest throbs for a beat as I realize I almost said Graham’s name. I bury my eyes in the white and gray quartz in front of me, but I can feel Bennett watching me with the same tender care as the pancakes.
“You and who?” Josie asks, tapping the whisk on the side of the bowl and then licking it.
“Just...anyone,” I lie, and the right side of Bennett’s mouth quirks up.
“I will say, though, no one has perfected the spaghetti/marinara ratio,” he says, saving me. Then handing a quarter measuring cup to Josie as he butters the griddle. “The same way no one can master the amount to actually pour to make a pancake.”
“Exactly!” Josie giggles and glops the wet mixture onto the griddle. It sizzles and warms until the air smells like a Christmas brunch. Bennett’s eyes remain filled with affection as he yawns, and I immediately want to apologize for waking him up at four and dragging him out of bed at five. But I don’t.
Within minutes, there’s a plate in front of me stacked with pancakes, butter, and maple syrup.
“Courtesy of the chef,” Bennett tells me as he winks at Josie. Her little hands with chipped nail polish fly to her mouth as she giggles.
He doesn’t let go of the plate, his brow furrowing.
“What?” I ask, confused.
“You can’t eat this,” he responds, pulling the plate away. At first, I don’t know what he means, but then I realize: I can’t eat gluten.
“Oh, it’s fine. I’m not much of a breakfast eater anyway. I’ll just stick to coffee,” I say, then tilt my head toward Josie. “I’m allergic.”
Her eyes go wide as she shovels syrupy pancakes in her mouth while Bennett rummages through the pantry.
“I have rice. Do you like rice?” he asks, holding a tub of the uncooked white grains. For a moment, I’m frozen, preparing myself to tell him he doesn’t have to make me anything, but he speaks first. “I want you to have something to eat for breakfast.”
His tone is so fatherly and adorable, I have to press my lips together to contain my smile. “I love rice,” I say, and he nods once then pulls out the rice cooker from the cupboard below.
I watch him as he prepares the rice for me.Bennett. My lifelong friend who hasn’t seen me for years taking me under his wing instead of writing me off like the lunatic I am.
