We don’t have many plans to celebrate tonight, just staying home to watch Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve.
I walk past Emersyn’s room and notice she’s still asleep. As I walk into the kitchen, the smell of eggs, bacon, and cheese fills my senses. Cam is putting some type of tray in the oven and closing it.
She quietly sings along to some music as she moves around the kitchen, and I watch her do her thing before I clear my throat to get her attention.
She turns around surprised, her cheeks reddening from getting caught singing.
“Don’t stop on my account. By all means, continue on,” I wave my hand in front of me, gesturing for her to go on. She throws a rag at me, and it falls to the floor by my feet.
“I’m making a breakfast casserole and some blueberry muffins for us.” She reaches up into the cupboard to grab my mug and places it on the counter next to the coffee maker. I approach her side and grab her waist, pulling her in to kiss the side of her head.
I take the pot and begin pouring coffee in my mug as she washes the dishes she used for breakfast.
“Can you do me a favor?” she asks as she dries a bowl with a towel. “Can you go check your car for my keys? For some reason, I can’t find them anywhere.”
She turns and places the bowl back in the cabinet. I take a sip out of my mug and realize it’s still too hot, so I decide to check the car now so it can cool a bit. Magnet’s circling the kitchen like a shark, and I know damn well the second I step outside Cameron’s gonna feed him.
I throw on my boots and coat and open the door to head out into the cold.
Thankfully, I get to park my car right next to Sayeed’s in his alleyway garage next door. I don’t think I’d ever drive my car if I had to deal with finding parking on the street. Walking through the backyard, I press the button to open the garage door. Unlocking the car, I lean into the passenger side to look under the seat but don’t find anything. I climb deeper inside the car and reach over to the driver’s side to look around for her keys, still nothing.
I check the back and find one of Emersyn’s dolls on the floor, so I pick it up and place it on the seat so I remember to bring it in.
The sun peeks through the clouds, and light shines through the front of the car. Something silver shimmers on the back seat from the sun hitting it. It’s Cameron’s keys. I snatch them up quickly, satisfied with the short amount of time it took to find them since it’s freezing out.
As I climb out of the car with my findings, I hear a baby crying, then a blood-curdling scream of my name coming from the backyard.
“Jaxon!” Cameron screams my name so loud you’d think someone was cutting off a limb.
I slam the car door hard and run out of the garage, practically falling over my own feet in the short distance to the backyard. My heart is beating a mile a minute, fear infiltrating my system. It only gets worse when I walk into the backyard to find her standing by our front door holding a distraught Emersyn.
Cameron has her in her arms. She peppers kisses on her head as she bounces her up and down, trying to console her and get her to calm down.
A scream bellows out of Emersyn unlike any I’ve ever heard before, not even during her night terrors.
It’s a scream that’s so heartbreaking and powerful there’s only one thing that can cause any baby to reach that level of intensity.
Pain.
Forty-five
Cameron
I peek outside the kitchen to make sure the door is closed, and Jaxon’s indeed outside. Magnet rubs up on my leg again, and I grab the small bowl from the table, place it on the floor, and he immediately devours his snack.
“You better not catch any type of feline diabetes, serpent. He’d never forgive me.” I rub his little head as he enjoys his nutty spread.
I’m not sure if cats can get diabetes, but I know damn well if they can, he’s the perfect candidate. I won’t lie and say it isn’t my fault, because it obviously is.
I sneak him treats any time I can, and Jaxon argues that too much food will make him obese and put him at higher risk for diseases. I think it’s nonsense; a little dab of peanut butter here and there won’t hurt him.
I keep checking the door, mentally rushing my fat feline companion to finish eating already.
Once Magnet’s done, he runs off, and I pick up the bowl and place it in the sink, turning the water on to wash away all traces of evidence.
Walking over to the drawer at the end of the kitchen, I grab two oven mitts to take out the trays from the oven. ”Face Down” by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus starts playing on my phone, and I raise the volume just a bit and bop my head to the music.
With my hands in the mittens, I open the oven to check the food. I pull out the first tray and place it on the counter, lifting the aluminum foil to take a look.
The steam hits me as I bring my nose closer to smell the eggs and bacon. I use a spoon and mix the casserole. It’s perfect. Internally patting myself on the back, I tighten the foil over the rim to keep it warm for us.
That’s when, out of nowhere, I hear Emersyn’s little scream from behind me, and I turn around to find her pulling her arm out of the open oven. She’s crying uncontrollably, holding the burned area of her forearm.
“Oh, my
