I’m not sure what else to say and am about to flee to my room, despite being hungry, when she visibly shakes her head and smiles. “Do you want some breakfast?” She gestures toward the counter and the food spread across it. “I’m making pancakes and bacon. But I can also whip up something else if you don’t like pancakes. We also have fruit and… uhm, granola or yogurt.”
“Ah, if I remember correctly, Montana loves pancakes. She used to beg me to make her some every Saturday and Sunday morning.” My father’s voice sounds from behind me, startling me. I didn’t hear him come inside. “Lizzie makes the best pancakes around here. You don’t want to miss out.”
I glance at him over my shoulders and notice the look of love he directs at Lizzie, and something akin to jealousy twists in my gut. I’m happy he’s found someone he loves like this, someone who makes him happy since my mother clearly didn’t. But I also can’t deny the fact that I wish he’d share some of his love with me.
I turn back around and look at the assortment of food Lizzie is preparing. “Pancakes would be great, thank you. Do you mind if I grab some coffee?”
“Of course not,” my father answers from behind me. “Help yourself to anything in the kitchen.”
“Thank you.” I move around the marble-top island toward the other end of the stove where I noticed the filled coffeepot. I grab a mug that’s sitting next to the machine and fill it to the brim with the delicious smelling coffee while I listen to the conversation behind me.
“Where’s Kade?” Lizzie asks my father. “I thought he’d stay for breakfast.”
“He had an emergency right before we came in. Something about one of the Peterson’s pregnant heifers having issues.”
I turn with my coffee to see him shrug while he walks toward her. He grabs her around the waist and kisses her softly. Their affection looks natural. They don’t care I’m in the room, or if anyone sees their love for one another. It’s the opposite of any other relationship I’ve ever been around, and it shakes something loose inside of me.
Since I was sixteen, I’ve resented my father’s new wife because it meant he’d never come back to us. And while I rationally knew that would never happen, a tiny part of me still held out hope. But it only takes two minutes in their company for me to realize whatever my parents had wasn’t real, honest love—the good kind that fulfills you on every level. It was nothing like he found with Lizzie. And even though the sixteen-year-old inside of me hates her for it, the more mature person I’ve become appreciates that he’s happy.
I’m distractedly staring into my coffee mug when my father’s voice calling my name pulls me out of my reverie.
“I’m sorry, what?” I ask, looking up at him.
His gaze is inquisitive, like he’s trying to figure me out. “Are you okay?”
I smile wanly. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
I watch his head tilt slightly, but he chooses to ignore my obvious lie. “Okay. Have a seat before you fall over. Have you taken your medicine yet?” When I shake my head, he points to the chair on the other side of the island in front of him. “Sit. I’ll get you some orange juice to take your pills with.”
He moves to the fridge while I walk to one of the high barstools he indicated and sit while trying not to jostle my shoulder too much. The fall I took in the barn is finally making itself known and the stabbing pain in my shoulder is intensifying.
I grab the pill bottle out of the pocket of my sweatpants and swallow two of them as soon as the glass is set down in front of me.
Lizzie places a plate stacked with three big pancakes in front of me. Her smile is warm and inviting, making me feel welcome despite what I heard this morning.
“Thank you.” I smile before I dig into the food in front of me with only my fork. I never appreciated having the use of two hands before now—eating one-handed is more of a challenge than I thought it would be. As soon as the food hits my tongue, the flavors explode in my mouth, flooding my mind with memories I didn’t know existed. I moan in delight while I remember a time when we sat in this kitchen and my mother would try to make pancakes, only for Wayne to take over laughingly. Memories of a happier time when my parents seemed to be in love before it all somehow turned ugly and bitter. A memory I clearly repressed, preferring to think of them as only ever hating each other, since that made their split easier to deal with.
Tears fill my eyes even though these pancakes are the best I’ve ever tasted. I swallow and look at my plate, trying to will away my tears. I clear my throat before I say, “These are amazing, Lizzie.”
There’s a pause before Lizzie’s soft voice answers, “Thank you, Montana.”
Trying to diffuse the tension I can feel building, I keep going. “I don’t usually indulge in anything too sugary, but these are definitely worth the extra calories.”
“Trust me, all of Lizzie’s cooking is worth breaking your diet for,” Wayne says with a smile on his face and pats his nonexistent belly.
Lizzie only rolls her eyes before looking at both of us. “Not sure why either one of you would need to be on a diet.” Her eyes stop on my frame. I’m not sure what she’s trying to say with her look, no one’s ever looked at me like
