dog with a rag doll. It would be nice having the two of them around for a while, she thought drowsily.
Barely awake, she leaned her forehead against the shower wall, smiling as she soaped and rinsed. Jake was like a half-wild dog, circling around a camp fire but reluctant to approach its warmth, but with Nicholas, Jake came in out of the cold.
Throwing the sleepshirt over her still damp body, she tumbled into bed. If she could just sleep for four hours now, she'd be a new woman. Oddly, her last coherent thought as her head hit the pillow and stayed there was about Nicholas's ears.
Through layers of sleep-chained consciousness, Sarah heard voices. She wanted to put her feet on the floor, knew she was going to stand up any second.
"Let her sleep, sport. She's tired." A door closed quietly.
"She wouldn't want to sleep, Jake. Sarah likes to get up and do things. She told me so. She's gonna be real mad if we leave her out."
"I don't think she'll mind if we make breakfast while she sleeps. Let's go down and see what we can find."
"This is a big mistake. Sarah promised we'd go fishing today, and she really wants to. I told her I'd bait her hook." Nicholas's voice faded away, and with an insistent tug sleep summoned Sarah.
Downstairs, Jake opened cupboard doors. The neatly lined shelves didn't surprise him. Flour, sugar, oatmeal, all in tidy glass jars. Safe... unlike Sarah. He'd let her get to him again, and he couldn't afford to. He had to keep his hands off her. He'd seen the wad of money in her pocket. God only knew where she'd gotten that kind of cash. "What's in the fridge, sport?"
"Lots of good stuff. Some weird stuff. How about a sandwich? I used to make sandwiches for me and Dad." Nicholas tilted his head inquiringly.
It was just the way Sarah tilted her head. "I think we need rib-sticking food if we're going fishing. Any eggs in there?"
"I don't like eggs, Jake. You ever think about eggs? I saw a movie once. You know where eggs come from, Jake? Yuck." Nicholas screwed his face up in disgust.
"You got a point there." Jake tried not to laugh. "No eggs, then."
"How about a jelly sandwich? Here's that guava stuff Sarah makes. It's sticky. I had some yesterday."
"You're really big on sandwiches, aren't you?" Jake squatted down to look in the refrigerator.
"Sure. They're great. Look, Sarah's even got squishy white bread. I love squishy bread." Nicholas squished the bread.
Jake took the bread. "What about cereal?"
"Nah. A sandwich."
"A sandwich, huh. Let me think a minute." Jake poked behind some boxes, opened the meat drawer. The kid was too skinny. He needed a good breakfast. "Okay, but it has to be a Jake's Special. Fair enough?"
"Sure. What you want me to do?" Nicholas pulled a chair over to the counter. "You know something, Jake? Me and you do neat stuff together," he confided, leaning against Jake.
"Yeah?" Jake shifted to make Nicholas comfortable and then lopped off margarine and tossed it into a cast-iron skillet. The lump sizzled and melted.
"Dad didn't do stuff. But he was tired a lot," Nicholas added loyally.
"That was tough." Jake slapped three pieces of bread in the skillet and topped them with ham and cheese before slicing a brilliant red tomato onto the cheese and finishing each sandwich with a slice of bread.
"Jake, I'm hungry. When are these Specials gonna be ready?"
4 'We have to flip them over and fry the top side." Jake handed a spatula to Nicholas. 'Think you can do that?"
Nicholas gripped the spatula in a tight fist and jammed it under one of the sandwiches. Tomato and bread flew sideways.
"Slow down, sport." Jake held Nicholas's hand under his bigger one and showed him how to ease the spatula all the way under while flipping quickly. Nicholas's eyebrows met in concentration.
Jake felt a pang as he thought about leaving Nicholas. He could teach the kid a lot. Nicholas picked up things like a sponge. He couldn't leave him with a mother who disappeared during the night. "Good job.
Barely awake, she leaned her forehead against the shower wall, smiling as she soaped and rinsed. Jake was like a half-wild dog, circling around a camp fire but reluctant to approach its warmth, but with Nicholas, Jake came in out of the cold.
Throwing the sleepshirt over her still damp body, she tumbled into bed. If she could just sleep for four hours now, she'd be a new woman. Oddly, her last coherent thought as her head hit the pillow and stayed there was about Nicholas's ears.
Through layers of sleep-chained consciousness, Sarah heard voices. She wanted to put her feet on the floor, knew she was going to stand up any second.
"Let her sleep, sport. She's tired." A door closed quietly.
"She wouldn't want to sleep, Jake. Sarah likes to get up and do things. She told me so. She's gonna be real mad if we leave her out."
"I don't think she'll mind if we make breakfast while she sleeps. Let's go down and see what we can find."
"This is a big mistake. Sarah promised we'd go fishing today, and she really wants to. I told her I'd bait her hook." Nicholas's voice faded away, and with an insistent tug sleep summoned Sarah.
Downstairs, Jake opened cupboard doors. The neatly lined shelves didn't surprise him. Flour, sugar, oatmeal, all in tidy glass jars. Safe... unlike Sarah. He'd let her get to him again, and he couldn't afford to. He had to keep his hands off her. He'd seen the wad of money in her pocket. God only knew where she'd gotten that kind of cash. "What's in the fridge, sport?"
"Lots of good stuff. Some weird stuff. How about a sandwich? I used to make sandwiches for me and Dad." Nicholas tilted his head inquiringly.
It was just the way Sarah tilted her head. "I think we need rib-sticking food if we're going fishing. Any eggs in there?"
"I don't like eggs, Jake. You ever think about eggs? I saw a movie once. You know where eggs come from, Jake? Yuck." Nicholas screwed his face up in disgust.
"You got a point there." Jake tried not to laugh. "No eggs, then."
"How about a jelly sandwich? Here's that guava stuff Sarah makes. It's sticky. I had some yesterday."
"You're really big on sandwiches, aren't you?" Jake squatted down to look in the refrigerator.
"Sure. They're great. Look, Sarah's even got squishy white bread. I love squishy bread." Nicholas squished the bread.
Jake took the bread. "What about cereal?"
"Nah. A sandwich."
"A sandwich, huh. Let me think a minute." Jake poked behind some boxes, opened the meat drawer. The kid was too skinny. He needed a good breakfast. "Okay, but it has to be a Jake's Special. Fair enough?"
"Sure. What you want me to do?" Nicholas pulled a chair over to the counter. "You know something, Jake? Me and you do neat stuff together," he confided, leaning against Jake.
"Yeah?" Jake shifted to make Nicholas comfortable and then lopped off margarine and tossed it into a cast-iron skillet. The lump sizzled and melted.
"Dad didn't do stuff. But he was tired a lot," Nicholas added loyally.
"That was tough." Jake slapped three pieces of bread in the skillet and topped them with ham and cheese before slicing a brilliant red tomato onto the cheese and finishing each sandwich with a slice of bread.
"Jake, I'm hungry. When are these Specials gonna be ready?"
4 'We have to flip them over and fry the top side." Jake handed a spatula to Nicholas. 'Think you can do that?"
Nicholas gripped the spatula in a tight fist and jammed it under one of the sandwiches. Tomato and bread flew sideways.
"Slow down, sport." Jake held Nicholas's hand under his bigger one and showed him how to ease the spatula all the way under while flipping quickly. Nicholas's eyebrows met in concentration.
Jake felt a pang as he thought about leaving Nicholas. He could teach the kid a lot. Nicholas picked up things like a sponge. He couldn't leave him with a mother who disappeared during the night. "Good job.
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