I woke up the next morning feeling refreshed. Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, I was surprised to find that it was still quite early. Morning light filtered through the curtains, filling the room with a dim glow.

Slowly, I rolled out of bed. As soon as my feet touched the ground, pins and needles crept up my legs. When I had planned my pregnancy, I knew it would be difficult, but I never imagined it would come with so many encumbrances. Still, as I ran my hands over my bloated belly, a spark of maternal instinct flared inside of me. I was always meant to be a mother, that much I was sure of.

Maybe I had not followed the traditional route to motherhood, but I had gotten there nonetheless.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of movement just down the hall. It sounded like someone was rummaging through the kitchen, opening cabinets and drawers. There was the soft clink, clink of utensils hitting plates. Soon enough, the smell of pancakes wafted to my nose.

It was divine.

Hunger tightened around my stomach. It protested, craving the sweet food it smelled. So I quickly slipped into the bathroom and went through my morning routine. By the time I emerged, dressed in a loose-fitting blouse and maternity pants, the smell was overwhelming.

I followed my nose to the kitchen.

There, I found a cute little girl sitting at the table, fork in hand. She looked up at me and I looked at her. In that moment, the world seemed to stop. Neither one of us made a move or dared to utter a sound.

Suddenly, she started screaming. “Daddy! There’s a stranger in the house! Stranger danger, stranger danger!” she squealed, about to run out of the kitchen when she realized I was blocking the way. She stepped back, her little eyes scanning the room, looking for an escape route. In the end, she locked herself in the pantry, still screaming.

Franklin came running in, barreling into me. We both tumbled forward, about to crash into the counter when he managed to steady us at the last possible moment. His arms were tight around me as he pinned me against his body. For an instant, his warmth triggered something inside of me. An ember of something started to smolder. The emotion was foreign to me, and I had no time to analyze it before it was gone.

The second he let go of me, I felt a familiar coldness settle over my body. I almost craved his arms to be around me once more.

Quickly, he crossed the kitchen, knocking on the pantry door. “Sweetie, it’s me, open up.”

“Daddy! There’s a stranger!” she exclaimed.

“I know, honey. She’s just a… friend… of mine,” he answered, trying to coax his daughter out of hiding.

Ever so slowly, she peeked out her head, eyeing me with suspicion. “A friend?” she questioned.

Franklin nodded. “She’s going to be staying with us for a little while, okay?”

Hesitantly, the little girl emerged, clinging to her father’s side.

“Gina, this is Lauren. Lauren, this is Gina.” Awkwardly, he made the introductions.

I smiled at the little girl and held out my hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Gina. And might I say that’s a very pretty dress you have on.”

The compliment instantly peaked her interest. She loosened her grip on her father’s pants and stepped forward, taking my hand in hers. She shook it excessively and smiled. “I like your shirt! The flowers are pretty.”

“Why thank you.”

She then pointed to my belly. “Are you going to have a baby?” she asked innocently.

I chuckled. I loved the way children were so blunt.

“Yes.” I took her hand and placed it on my stomach. “In two months.”

“Wow…” Gina whispered in amazement. “Where’s the daddy?”

“Gina, I think you should finish your pancakes or you’re going to be late for school,” Franklin spoke quickly, intercepting her question. It was obvious that he wanted to keep the whole thing a secret. I didn’t blame him. It would be for the better anyway. That would make things easier when it came time to leave.

“Okay…” She scampered back to the table and continued eating her breakfast.

“Would you like some breakfast? I made a few extra pancakes.” Franklin motioned to the plate on the counter. “Help yourself.”

“Thanks.” I snagged the plate and sat down at the table with Gina, who kept staring at me, curiosity painting her eyes with brightness. “So, what year are you in?” I asked the little girl.

“Preschool!” she said excitedly.

“Do you like it?”

She nodded. “I have a lot of friends, and I really like when we do arts and crafts,” she said, stuffing her mouth with pancakes. “And my teacher, Mrs. Pelican, she’s really nice.”

“Gina. What have I told you about talking with your mouth full?”

The little girl struggled to swallow so she could mumble a quick apology.

Franklin walked up behind her and started to gather her long, dark hair into a ponytail. He was careful, making sure he wouldn’t hurt her. When he was ready, Gina held up a scrunchie, which he expertly wrapped around her hair.

“Thanks, Daddy!”

“You’re welcome, pumpkin. Now, finish up your milk. The bus will be here any minute.”

She immediately picked up her glass and chugged the drink. She then wiped the milk mustache from her lip, jumped out of her seat, snatched up her backpack, and flew toward the door.

Franklin followed her.

Finally alone, I decided to attack my pancakes. They were sweet and fluffy. I savored every bite.

By the time I finished, Franklin still wasn’t back. I brought the empty plate to the sink and started to wash it. Even though I was demanding a lot from him, I didn’t want to be a complete freeloader. I wasn’t that kind of a person.

As I placed the dish on the drying rack, I wondered, for a moment, if there was someone else in the picture. As far as I could tell, it seemed like Franklin was a single father. He had cooked breakfast, done his daughter’s hair, and brought her out to the bus. There seemed to be no sign of a woman in this household, so where was Gina’s mother? It was the only detail I had failed to collect during my research. It was like he had put a lot of effort into concealing that part of his life.

I had always liked a good mystery, and this was starting to look like one of them.