Chapter Eleven
Greyson
Mya was already in the kitchen when I got down there. She stood at the stove, spatula in hand. Her hair was pulled up in a bun, wisps escaping to move in the breeze from the open window over the sink.
“Good morning.” I moved to stand beside her. “You didn’t have to get up and cook.”
“No, I know. But I wanted to thank you for being so nice to me. I didn’t know what to do last night.”
“Where did you find pancake mix? I thought we were out.” On the griddle in front of her was a row of golden hotcakes. “Wow, those look good.”
“You don’t need a box mix for pancakes. They’re so easy from scratch.” She scooped the cakes onto a plate. “If you could take these to the table, you can get started while I cook the rest.”
“Thanks, Mya.” It felt good to walk into a kitchen that smelled like pancakes and coffee and…
“Oh, I almost forgot the warm buttered syrup.”
Setting the plate down, I returned the stove where she was pouring fragrant syrup from a small pot into a little pitcher. I had a pitcher? “Buttered syrup?”
“It’s a family tradition. My mother always heated them together. I hope you like it. If not, I can get out the bottle and the stick for you.”
“The bottle and the stick…that sounds slightly… I’m sure it will be delicious.”
She looked so confused. Fortunately. I wasn’t even sure why those two words sounded naughty together. Probably because I hadn’t been naughty myself in so long. “O-okay.” Mya brought over another tall stack of hotcakes. “I put a little vanilla and a dash of cinnamon in the syrup, too.”
On the table were coffee cups, orange juice, plates, silverware. Everything for a nice family breakfast. It probably shouldn’t make me ache to see it. Plopping into Jeanine’s chair, I filled my mug from the coffee carafe.
“How are the pancakes?”
“I was waiting for you to sit down, too. Maybe we can talk about the offer I made last night.”
“Oh yes.” She sat down. “But let’s eat. Pancakes and buttered syrup aren’t very good cold.”
“We should put some to keep warm for Benji.” I started to stand, but Mya laid a hand on my arm.
“Already done. His are in the oven.” Mya pushed one of the plates piled with cakes toward me. “Eat up.”
Not wanting to offend her, I forked a couple of pancakes onto my plate and topped them with the warm syrup. Fork poised in front of my lips, I said, “So? Do you have an answer for me?”
“About the nannying?” She was fixing her own plate, and her gaze remained on her food. “I did think about it.”
“And would you be interested?”
I held my breath. It would be a big difference in Benji’s life to have Mya here.
She’d lifted both our spirits already. Of course, I didn’t know much of her story, but what little I did told me she was not planning to go back to wherever she’d come from.
At least she hadn’t implied that when I offered her the job.
“I told you I don’t have any nanny experience, just babysitting. And I’m not sure if I’ll be staying here, long term.”
And she wasn’t saying why. If she did leave, that would be a problem because Benji was already attached. But my bear wanted her to stay, and so did I. For my son’s sake, of course. And hope that it worked out. “We could make it on a trial basis.”
“That would maybe work.”
“Can you start today?”
“Daddy!” Benji came tumbling into the kitchen, skidding to a stop on his pajama feet. “I smell pancakes.”
“Yes, you do. Mya made them for us.”
He pulled himself into his chair and picked up his fork. “I want some.”
I began to lift a couple for him, but Mya was on her feet. “Just a minute. Benji’s are keeping warm, remember?”
There was nothing wrong with the ones in front of us, but I didn’t say so, since she was almost to the oven already.
And when she returned, she had some very special teddy-bear shaped hotcakes for my son.
They had chocolate chips for eyes and nose and mouth, and Benji clapped his hands and crowed with delight as soon as she lifted them from the hot plate to the one in front of him. “Here you go.”
“Bears! Mya made bears!” She couldn’t know how she’d reached right into Benji’s heart. “Can Mya stay forever?”
She poured syrup over the pancakes and reached for a dish towel to tuck into his pajamas. “Syrup can be sticky.”
“Son, Mya is going to stay with us for a little while, and then we’ll see how it goes.”
“Forever.” He beamed as he shoveled a bite into his mouth. “Mmm.”
The buttered syrup really was an upgrade to normal pancake toppings, but I was running low on time and needed to get to the office.
My bear trusted Mya and so did Benji. She wasn’t telling us much about her life, but her goodness was not at all in doubt. I also appreciated that she wasn’t asking me questions about my late mate.
“You can use the other car, and I will leave you some money in case you need anything for the house or whatever.” I stood up and straightened my slacks. “You two have a good day, and we’ll work on making things more formal when I get home.”