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To keep going.
And I promise to keep going… both literally and figuratively.
Forty minutes later, I'm downstairs, freshly showered and changed into a light pair of sweats. The aroma of banana pancakes fills the kitchen as I flip another golden-brown disk onto a growing stack. Humming to myself, I can't help but feel a rush of contentment. The sizzle of batter hitting the skillet mingles with the gentle morning sounds seeping through the open window.
Just as I finish the last pancake, Sarah strolls into the kitchen, her eyes bright and her smile infectious. She’s now dressed in a tank top and fitted tights, her damp hair cascading freely over her shoulders.
“Are you making banana pancakes?” she asks, her voice laced with excitement.
I pause and look up, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “I am indeed,” I reply, lifting the skillet to show her.
She claps her hands together, her face lighting up. “I love banana pancakes!” she exclaims, her excitement evident in her rising voice.
I chuckle, a mix of surprise and delight washing over me. “You do? It's not every day you meet someone who shares that particular taste,” I say, setting the pan aside and walking over to her with a platter of warm, fragrant pancakes. "It's usually blueberry, cinnamon, and sometimes pecan when people choose a flavor other than regular pancakes."
“I know, right?” She laughs, her amusement filling the room like a sweet melody. “They remind me of Sunday mornings at home.”
“Well, I’m glad we have that in common,” I say, handing her a plate. “There’s nothing better than banana pancakes to start the day.”
She looks up at me, her eyes shimmering with appreciation. “It's like you read my mind, Tyler,” she says softly, taking the plate from my hands. “Thank you.”
We sit at the small table by the window, and there’s a comfortable silence as we dig into our breakfast. The pancakes are as delicious as I had hoped.
As Sarah takes her first bite, she closes her eyes and sighs contentedly. “These are amazing,” she murmurs, and I can’t help but feel a sense of pride swelling in my chest.
“Glad you like them,” I say, taking a bite from my stack. “There’s plenty more where that came from.”
Her eyes twinkle mischievously. “Are you saying you’ll make me banana pancakes every morning?”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Only if you promise not to get tired of them.”
“Deal,” she says with a grin, leaning back in her chair. “I could never get tired of this… or of you.”
Her words hang in the air, wrapping around me like a warm embrace. In this moment, everything feels just right. Things can only go up and get better from this point on.
Chapter 20
Sarah
The Town’s Whisperings
I weave through the grocery store's aisles, lingering on how great it's been lately.
My cart is half-filled with necessities and a few indulgences when I debate which apples look the freshest in the produce section.
As suggested, I've taken up grocery shopping for the Parker residence. Mrs. Carolyn's at the age where she should walk around the grocery store less.
I've moved into the residence in a way since I've spent more nights there than at my actual home.
But Tyler, Timmy, and Mrs. Carolyn have embraced my constant presence with open arms, so that's all that matters.
“Sarah?” a familiar voice calls out, pulling me out of my thoughts. I turn, and Marie Harlow is standing there, her face lighting up in a broad smile.
“Marie!” I exclaim, walking over to her. We embrace each other warmly, the scent of her floral perfume reaching my nostrils. “How have you been?”
“Oh, just busy as ever,” she replies, adjusting her purse on her shoulder. “My in-laws are coming to town tomorrow, and Frank is back home doing yard work. You know how it is, preparing for visitors.”
I nod, giving her a sympathetic smile. “That must be a lot of work. I hope it all goes smoothly.”
