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“I gave it to him,” I explain. “That’s how dating works.”
“Dating?”
“Yes, I’m a single woman and he’s a single man and we decided to date.”
Gabriel watches me intently; I can’t determine what’s going through his mind. He stares at me so long I start to worry if his mother is going to make an appearance. However, he blinks and takes a step back.
Once he puts space between us I remember what I was doing before Andrew texted me. I turn around and grab the large serving tray off the counter before turning back to face Gabriel.
“Surprise,” I say. He looks down at the tray in my hands and frowns.
“They probably aren’t as good as the place you went, but mine have chocolate chips in them and they’re gluten free.”
I wait for a reaction, but he continues to glare down at the tray.
“Pancakes,” Gabe cheers as he walks into the kitchen grabbing our attention. He pulls a chair out at the table and takes a seat. I move around Gabriel and place the pancakes down on the center of the table.
Gabriel’s eyes rake over the placement in front of him and then over to the glass sliding door leading out to the backyard. I have no idea what’s going through his head. His hands are clenched at his side. He almost looks angry about the gesture. Maybe I read it wrong and this brings back sad memories.
“If you don’t want them I can—”
“Thank you,” he finally says, cutting me off.
He’s silent again. He stares at me for a long moment as if he wants to say something else but doesn’t.
“Well, let’s eat,” I say, cutting through the awkwardness.
Gabriel takes a seat. I grab the bacon out of the oven and plate it before joining the two at the breakfast table. I help Gabe place his food on his plate and cut it up for him.
Gabe’s giggles have me looking over to Gabriel. He has the plate slid close to him, one hand covering the plate and with the other he’s shoveling food in his mouth.
I forgot about his prison style of eating.
“Hulk, slow down,” Gabe says with laughter in his voice.
Gabriel looks up as if for a moment he forgot where he was. He looks over to a smiling Gabe and then to me. His ears turn red as he grimaces.
“Sorry,” he says.
“No need to apologize,” I hold up my hand. “Eat the way you want. Right, Gabe?” I turn to my son.
“Right,” Gabe grabs his fork, places one hand over his plate, haunches his back, and sticks a big bite of pancakes in his mouth.
I cover my laugh as my son imitates his father’s eating habits. When Gabe gets a little too excited and starts to choke on a pancake. I pat his back until he stops coughing.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“Drink something,” I say with a chuckle as I hand him his cup. “You can’t do everything Hulk does. He has a bigger mouth than you,” I say jokingly.
Gabe’s eyes fall to the table. “But I want to be like Hulk.”
“Gabe you can’t—”
“Show me how you eat,” Gabriel says cutting me off. I look across the table to him and he’s watching Gabe.
Gabe picks up a triangle shaped pancake on his fork and places it in his mouth, taking his time to chew it. Gabriel copies him, doing the exact same thing.
