Page 23 of His Reward
“Last I checked, there wasn’t any bacon or eggs in my fridge.”
“I went out and got a few things.I wanted you to have a proper breakfast before you left for work.”
I smile.“Aw, you’re the best.It’s been a long time since anyone made me breakfast.”
He returns my smile.“I like taking care of you.”
Dammit.When he says stuff like that, he’s just making the wrong feelings I have for him grow stronger.He knocks the spoon against the side of the pan, shaking bits of egg loose.
“These are done.Grab some plates.”
He plates the eggs and bacon, and we take our meal over to my small dining table.While I butter a slice of fresh bread, he pours hot water from the kettle into cups with instant coffee.
I fork some of the eggs into my mouth.They’re soft, and the onions, black pepper, and basil make them flavourful and delicious.
“Wow, these are really good.Way better than how I normally eat eggs.”
“How do you eat them?”
“Shake a little salt on them and cook them in the microwave.”
He pauses eating and gives me a horrified look.
“That’s a crime and you ought to be arrested.”
I laugh.“I’m a lazy cook, OK?I hope my future husband doesn’t expect a tradwife, because he’ll be sorely disappointed.”
“I doubt it.Any man who gets to call you his will feel like the luckiest bastard on the planet, sweetheart.”He moves on before I can recover from the glow inside me.“For a second there, I thought I wouldn’t be able to make breakfast.I had to dig around in your cupboards to find that pan.”
“Yeah, that’s Penny’s pan.She forgot it when she moved out.I only use my instant pot and microwave to cook food.”
“So you never use the stove?”
I shake my head.“It’s just there for decoration.You saw what happened the last time I used one.”
He doesn’t respond right away, but his eyes hold understanding.
“June, you were only a kid,” he says in a gentle voice.
“A stupid one.”
“No.Being stupid is choosing to do something when you know it will have bad consequences.But you didn’t know.Your parents hadn’t taught you about it yet.Lots of adults don’t even know that throwing water on a grease fire only makes it worse.”
I chew on a strip of bacon as I remember that evening.Daphne and Nathan were with their friends.I was supposed to go to a sleepover but I had a stomachache.Since Mom was on a night shift, Dad was supposed to stay with me.He left, saying he’ll be back in a minute.
Eventually, I got hungry.I waited for Dad to come back and make me something to eat, but minutes feel like months at that age.I went to the kitchen to make myself some French fries.I’d watched Mom make them before and thought I could do it too.
Except, I left the oil on for too long.When I put the frozen fries in, there was a loud, angry hiss.Hot oil spattered everywhere, and flames shot up from the pot.
Panicked, I filled a bowl with water and tossed it onto the fire.Instead of putting it out, I made itworse.The flames ballooned and latched onto the wooden cupboard.
I froze up, watching the fire spread in seconds.A fire marshal had come to our school once and taught us what to do in case of a fire.I forgot everything I’d learned and ran down into the basement to hide.
I was so scared.All I could think about was how I would be in huge trouble once Mom and Dad got home.As the fire grew and flooded the house with smoke, I realized my parents being mad wasn’t the scariest thing.I was going to die.
Then Malcolm was there, rushing down the basement stairs, scooping me into his arms, holding me tight.
It’s OK, Jujube.
