I quickly brush my hair and teeth and I stride out into the living room before I can rethink it.
“Pancakes?” I ask in my hoarse morning voice. I’m about to say more but am quickly overpowered by the smell of something burning. As in full-fledged burning.
I look to Ryan, dressed in khaki shorts and a navy T-shirt, as he pivots around in front of the stove, completely frazzled. Holding a spatula in one hand, he waves the other back and forth over a smoking frying pan. “I may have burnt the bacon,” he says.
“I can see that. It was nice of you to try, though.” I cross the room to push the windows open behind my desk, hoping to help air out the space.
“I’m usually a good breakfast cook but I think I got too ambitious in going for the pancake-bacon combo on an unfamiliar stove.”
I step closer towards the kitchenette and Ryan cautiously feels the handle of the frying pan. Not finding it scorching, he picks it up and dumps the charred bacon into the garbage. “Your fridge was very well stocked. I’m usually proud of myself if I have milk from the same year in mine.”
“I went shopping before you got here.” I raise my hands over my head in a stretch and Ryan turns around to busy himself with something at the counter.
“Don’t feel obligated to buy a lot of stuff on my account. I can reimburse you for the groceries if you want.”
“No, it’s fine,” I say. “Besides, if you make breakfast every day, I should be the one reimbursing you.”
“Honestly, I don’t usually cook a hot meal for myself every morning.” He moves back to the stove as he scoops the last pancake off the pan and onto a plate. “I may be showing off for you a bit.”
My heart skips a beat and I wish it wouldn’t.
“How are you even up this early?”
“Believe it or not, some of us have boring, real jobs and it’s not easy to break those schedules.” He looks through my kitchen cabinets and stops when he finds the maple syrup.
I sit down at my small bistro dining table that only seats two, situated a few feet from the kitchenette. “You’re just jealous because my job is cooler than yours.”
“You’re probably right.” A moment later, he places a plate in front of me with a pleased look on his face. He leans over my shoulder, bracing his weight on the back of my chair. I twist my head to look up at him. “Are you impressed?” he asks.
I take a startled breath when I realize just how close he is. “Quite impressed.”
“Good.”
My cheeks warm as he walks back over to the stove, and I’m glad he doesn’t see it. I cut into my pancakes soon after as he sets his plate across from me and sits down at the table.
“When did you adopt Duke?” I ask before I take my first bite.
Ryan smiles a proud pup-dad smile as he sips his coffee. “I got him last April, and Big Boy will be four next month.”
“What made you decide to adopt him?”
“It was my sister’s idea. Sophie’s obsessed with dogs. She has two of her own and she fosters a bunch for a rescue shelter in her area. She thought a dog would be good for me.”
“Why’s that?” I ask.
Side note, these pancakes are delicious. I have to exercise serious discipline not to scarf them down and instead take ladylike bites.
“She was always giving me grief about how much I worked or how much I went out. She thought a dog would give me a sense of balance.”
“I see. So your sister performed a dog intervention.”
“I guess she did. Anyways, I went to the shelter and it was love at first sight.” He then begins to prepare his pancakes, but not in the traditional way. Rather, he cuts the pancakes into pieces and pushes them all to one side of the plate. He then proceeds to pour a pool of syrup onto the other side and dips each piece in before every bite. A wistful look crosses my face as I watch the strangely meticulous process. I forgot he ate his pancakes like that.
“That’s really sweet,” I eventually say, focusing back on our Duke discussion. “And do you like having a dog?”
“I love it. We play out in the backyard before work every morning and a dog-walker comes by midday. There are usually two scenarios when I get home from work. One, he’s waiting for me by the door. Two, he’s in my bed, drooling all over my pillow while eating a treat.”
“I can picture that.” I chuckle.
“Yeah, he’s the best. When I drive home from work, it’s nice to know he’ll be there. He won’t get sick of me or leave.”
I start to smile but then stop as his words sink in. I look up and he looks down, taking a bite and giving the impression that he made some kind of mistake. With his seemingly boundless confidence, could Ryan have abandonment issues? Did I play a part in that? Did his parents? I’m trying to figure out what to say next when he quickly brightens back up and goes on, “He’s just awesome. If having a dog is a preview for what kids will be like, I’m ready for it.”
“Really?” I ask, choking on my food a bit. “You’d like to have kids soon?”
“I do. I want to be a youngish dad and after everything that happened with my parents, having a family of my own has become an important goal for me.”
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am.
“What about you?” he asks. “Do you see yourself having kids?”
I take a break from eating, resting the edge of my fork against the plate.
