Chapter 10 Gretchen
GRETCHEN
When I wake up, it's to the sound of Gavin laughing.
“Now, be careful with this. You don't want to burn yourself.”
I sit up, wincing at the ache that's settled into my back from sleeping on the couch.
“Do I flip it like this?” Gavin's question has a hush of excitement to it, even as I recognize he's trying to be quiet. There's silence, and then a crow of success. “I did it!”
Rolling off the couch takes more effort than I want to admit, and I'm grateful there's no one in the room to witness my lack of grace.
Stumbling into the kitchen, I'm greeted by the sight of Gavin and Cooke huddled over the stove. The warm scent of pancakes fills the room.
“Power's back on, I see.”
Gavin looks over his shoulder at me. “Cooke's teaching me to cook.” Then he laughs at his own joke, shimmying his shoulders in a way that tells me he's fully enjoying himself.
“I've taught you to cook,” I protest, but it's half-hearted. I've taught him the very basics, things he needs to be able to feed himself. Pancakes are practically gourmet level in my book. One can survive without pancakes. Only if they have to.
“He knew the basics,” offers the big man, his size dominating the small space available in the kitchen.
If I was in there with them, we'd be touching constantly, brushing past each other, hip to hip.
The idea is enough to send heat jolting through me.
For my own sake, I pick a seat at the table, content to watch them work together.
It feels normal. Like something a family would do. And that's a dangerous feeling.
Nice to see.
Gavin sets a plate with two pancakes down in front of me and watches with pride as I take the first bite. The buttery goodness and sweet maple flavor burst on my tongue, and I make a groan of satisfaction.
“Well, I hate to break it to you, bud, but you'll be stuck on pancake duty until you move out on your own. Because these are delicious.”
My brother grins, clapping his hands. “Yes.” He darts back over to the kitchen counter, filling his own plate after giving Cooke a high five. “Told you she'd like them.”
“You're both very interested in what I'm eating.” I take another bite and wink at Gavin when he sits down beside me. “Should I be concerned?”
Gavin rolls his eyes. “You're always worried about me not eating enough. But you're the one that doesn't eat much. If you're going to bug me about it, I'll bug you right back.”
Affection swells in my chest and my eyes tingle with the threat of tears. This kid. Dang, he wears his heart on his sleeve so much of the time.
“That's fair.” I nod when he shoots me a glance. “I get so busy with work and wanting to make sure you're taken care of that I sometimes forget to take care of myself. I'll do better.”
He gives me a quick smile, then goes back to his breakfast, chattering away at Cooke, who listens to his ideas intently. He seems genuinely interested in my brother and that's something I appreciate. Gavin could do worse than a male role model like Cooke.
“With the extra snow, there will be lots of people that need their driveways and sidewalks cleared. How many do you think we can get done today?”
Cooke clears his throat and looks at me. “Well, that all depends. We should do your sister's driveway first. In case she needs to get to work.”
I shoot a quick glance at my watch. My shift at the hospital tonight is the late one. I agreed to work it so I'd have the next few days off. To give me and Gavin time to enjoy Christmas together. I wonder if Cooke will take me up on the offer to spend it with us.
“I've got a few hours before I have to leave. If the two of you can clear enough for me to get out, I'd really appreciate it.” I narrow my eyes at them both. “Unless Cooke needs to get to work himself. Then you and I can manage ourselves, Gavin.”
“Don't worry about me. Been told more than once lately that I need to take some time off work. It's not a bother for me.”
I wonder if he's being honest. It's easy to see that he could be a workaholic. He's focused, intent, and hard driving in business, I'm sure. The kind of person who wouldn't typically take a break at the holidays.
The details he shared with me last night jab at me. How he never felt truly included at Christmas with the foster families he was living with. That likely has a lot to do with his reluctance to stop working. If he's busy, he's less lonely.
I decide then that he'll be part of this Christmas with us. Not an afterthought. But an intentional, included guest.
Now if I can only figure out how to actually do that in the short time I have left.