Time to wake up, sleepy head!” Anna said, lying next to Toby on the bed.
He was burrowed under the covers and had an arm slung over his face.
“Toooobyyyy,” she sing-songed as she put her cold hand under the back of his pajama shirt. “It’s time to get ready for school.”
He rolled to his side and made a groaning noise.
She lay still next to him, closing her eyes for a few seconds. Then she jolted upright when she realized she’d dozed off and searched frantically for the digital clock on the nightstand. How long had she been asleep? She exhaled in relief when she saw she’d been out for only a couple of minutes.
Sitting up, she rubbed her sleeping son’s arm. “Time to get up. It’s PE day.”
That got his attention. He pushed back the sheet to look up at her. “We’re doing fitness tests in PE today. I’m going to do twenty push-ups, Mummy.”
She smiled. “Your arms must be getting so strong if you can do twenty!” She scooted to the edge of the bed and forced herself to get up. Starting her day at three thirty in the morning was beginning to wear her down. At least she didn’t have to commute to work—the kitchen table and the bedroom she shared with Toby served as her office, but since her father could be left alone more frequently, she’d started working at Starbucks after she dropped Toby off at school, if for no other reason than the endless caffeine supply.
She’d made it to Thursday and still had a job, which helped relieve the tight band of anxiety squeezing her insides. Did that mean her boss had decided to keep her after all? One less thing to worry about.
Now that Toby was up, he bounded off the bed with energy that made her envious. “Mummy, it’s soccer practice day!”
The thought of seeing Matt did weird things to her insides. What the hell was wrong with her? She wasn’t in middle school. Not to mention, Matt was off limits. She needed to stay away from him.
Toby grabbed a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, then ripped his pajama shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor.
“Do you want pancakes this morning?” Anna asked, grinning at how quickly he went from sound asleep to bouncing around. “So you’ll have strength for all your push-ups?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Don’t leave your clothes on the floor,” she said over her shoulder as she walked out of the room.
She headed into the kitchen and made the batter while the skillet heated up. Toby came in moments later and sat at the small kitchen table.
“I see you’re making flapjacks,” her father said from the kitchen doorway.
Toby’s eyes grew wide as his gaze lifted to his grandfather.
“Yeah,” Anna said absently as her father sat next to her son.
“Have you got flapjacks in England?” her father asked Toby.
Toby’s mouth dropped open and he glanced back at his mother. She smiled and nodded. Her father had made several efforts to reach out to Toby after her talk with him last week, and while Toby was still shy, he didn’t act so terrified of him.
“What are flapjacks?” Toby asked in a whisper.
“What are flapjacks?” her father asked in disbelief. “Only the best breakfast food in the whole daggum world.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Some people call them pancakes.”
Toby laughed and declared flapjacks to be the funniest name ever for a pancake.
Her father leaned back in his chair. “Once when I was your age, my mother made me tiny flapjacks and I tucked them into my pocket.” Her father mimicked hiding tiny pancakes in his pants pocket. “And then I used them to play checkers.”
“What’s checkers?” Toby asked.
“What’s checkers? Only the best game in the whole daggum world.”
Toby frowned. “Oh.”
“We have it here someplace,” her father said, waving his hand absently. “Your mother used to play.”
Toby’s mouth dropped. “She did?”
“She was good, too. Sometimes she even beat me.”
Anna set a plate of pancakes on the table along with a plate for her father. “And he didn’t let me win either.”
Her father put a pancake on Toby’s plate then took one for himself. “I can teach you to play if you like.”
“Really?” Toby asked.
“Yep. I’ll have your mother find the set.”
Toby grabbed the syrup bottle. “Can we play with flapjacks?”
“We’ll save the flapjacks for our bellies.”
Toby giggled and Anna stared at her father in disbelief. He glanced over at her and she mouthed, Thank you.
He gave a slight nod then plopped a dollop of butter on his grandson’s pancake. “Let me show you the right way to eat a flapjack, grandson.”
Anna turned her back to the pair to hide her teary eyes. Strangely enough, her father had never claimed Toby as his grandson so openly. Trying to forge a relationship with her son was one of the greatest gifts her father could have given her.
She cleaned up the kitchen, then glanced at the clock. “Toby. Time to go to school.” She turned to her father. “I’m headed to Starbucks to get a few hours of work in before your physical therapy appointment. Do you need me to do anything before I go?”
The hard shell snapped back into place. “I’m a grown man. I don’t need babysitting.”
“I know, Dad, I…” Her voice trailed off. Some things just weren’t worth the fight. “If you think of something in the next five minutes, let me know.”
He refused to talk to her again before she left, but she made sure he had everything he needed next to his recliner—the TV remote, a fresh cup of coffee, the newspaper, and a sharpened pencil to do the crossword puzzle.
When she and Toby started to walk out the door, Toby stopped in the opening and turned back with a beaming face. “Bye, Grandad! Have a good day!”
Anna’s back muscles tightened and she prepared herself for the brush-off her father was sure to give her son, but instead, her father’s tight jaw loosened and the hint of a smile tickled the corners of his mouth. “You, too, grandson.”
Toby’s smile spread and he bounded out the door, giddy over his newfound superpower—making his grandfather nice.
Memories of her childhood rushed back, when her father had been softer. Her mother had always had a way of taking off his edge, until she’d gone back to work when Anna had been in middle school. That was when she’d become more acquainted with the crabby man he was today.
Anna stopped and studied her father, trying to analyze his change in attitude with Toby, but any hint of his smile vanished and he glared at her. “What?”
Taking a lesson from her son, she gave him a soft smile. “Have a good morning, Dad.”
He seemed surprised and said, almost without thinking, “You, too.”
Anna remained lost in thought as she drove the short distance to Toby’s school. She missed her mother so much. She was supposed to be there helping Anna navigate motherhood. She was supposed to be there, helping navigate her father.
She could hear her mother’s voice in her head, encouraging her to continue to try to knock down her father’s walls. Cracks like she’d seen this morning gave her hope. Maybe Toby was the key.