That's the way," he encouraged, as Nicholas flipped the other two sandwiches.
"I know," Nicholas asserted. "It's not hard. I'm gonna get the sodas now, Jake. You can make coffee if you want it, but soda's better."
"Whoa!" Jake grabbed the tail of Nicholas's shirt. "No soda for breakfast, kid. Milk. Or juice."
Nicholas frowned. "Why not?"
"Not good for you."
Nicholas jammed his fists on his nonexistent hips and glared at Jake. "You say that a lot, Jake, but you eat doughnuts and stuff. And you drink soda."
"But not for breakfast. Here," Jake handed him a glass. "Milk."
Nicholas took it and trudged to the refrigerator. "Dumb stuff, milk. You ever think about milk, Jake? You know where it comes from?"
Coming in on the tail end of the exchange, Sarah stifled her laugh.
"Jake's right, Nicholas," she said as she stepped inside. "You need milk. When you get older, you can drink what you want."
"How old I gotta be?"
"Oh, about as old as Jake, I think. That would be old enough."
Nicholas assessed Jake. "I dunno, Sarah, that'd be a long time to wait. Jake's awful old."
Jake grunted. 'This old man's ready for something to eat. You know how us old folks are. We get cranky if we're not fed on a regular basis."
"So do pit bulls." Sarah wrinkled her nose.
"And you know how dangerous they are when they're riled, don't you?" Jake noticed how Sarah's lips dented in when she tried to hold back her smile. Her lips had been silky warm He frowned. "Sit down and eat, Nicholas."
Nicholas giggled. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, Jake." He turned to Sarah. "When we going fishing?"
"Don't push it, sport." Jake cut Nicholas's sandwich into quarters.
"No, it's all right. I promised I'd take him. Just let me wake up a bit and we'll see what we need, okay?" She smiled when Nicholas looked relieved. "Were you worried?"
He chewed a nail. "Sometimes people forget promises. Jake doesn't, though."
Jake's hard face softened as he spoke to Nicholas. "Promises are important, kid. I told you that."
"Do you keep all your promises?" Sarah took out milk and a tall glass.
"I don't make promises." But of course he had. He'd promised to take care of Nicholas.
Sarah opened the silverware drawer and removed an iced tea spoon. She put the spoon in the glass and poured coffee in as she thought about Jake's comment. "You never make promises?"
He tilted his chair back. "Very seldom." He frowned as he watched her.
Sarah wondered if he remembered what he'd said before he sent her from the room. Hadn't that been a promise? "That's a hard way to live. People need promises and com-
mitments from other people. They need to know they can count on each other." She added three spoonfuls of sugar to the hot coffee and then poured in cold milk to the top of the glass. Vigorously stirring, she sank into a chair.
"Most people make easy promises that aren't worth a hill of beans. So what difference does it make if I don't make any?"
"I'm not sure." She ran her finger around the chilled rim of her glass. Jake sounded annoyed. What kind of life had he had to make him so distrustful? Even in her darkest moments, she'd never been that cynical. "Don't you get lonely?"
"No." But she noticed that his eyes slid to Nicholas.
"What happens when you do make promises?" Sarah persisted, wanting to hear the words. She drank her iced coffee and watched as Jake chewed his sandwich.
"Then I keep them." He scowled and answered her question before she asked it. "Always."
"Then you're a person people can depend on." Sarah didn't like the shadow that moved over his face. He looked as though he wanted to argue but couldn't. She let him off the hook. "That's enough serious talk for the morning, right, Nicholas? Don't you think we need to head out to the lake before the day gets away from us?"
"Yeah!" Nicholas shoved his plate away and leaped up.
"Wait a minute. Sarah and I need to talk about some things first. Why don't you go outside and wait for us?"
The screen door
"I know," Nicholas asserted. "It's not hard. I'm gonna get the sodas now, Jake. You can make coffee if you want it, but soda's better."
"Whoa!" Jake grabbed the tail of Nicholas's shirt. "No soda for breakfast, kid. Milk. Or juice."
Nicholas frowned. "Why not?"
"Not good for you."
Nicholas jammed his fists on his nonexistent hips and glared at Jake. "You say that a lot, Jake, but you eat doughnuts and stuff. And you drink soda."
"But not for breakfast. Here," Jake handed him a glass. "Milk."
Nicholas took it and trudged to the refrigerator. "Dumb stuff, milk. You ever think about milk, Jake? You know where it comes from?"
Coming in on the tail end of the exchange, Sarah stifled her laugh.
"Jake's right, Nicholas," she said as she stepped inside. "You need milk. When you get older, you can drink what you want."
"How old I gotta be?"
"Oh, about as old as Jake, I think. That would be old enough."
Nicholas assessed Jake. "I dunno, Sarah, that'd be a long time to wait. Jake's awful old."
Jake grunted. 'This old man's ready for something to eat. You know how us old folks are. We get cranky if we're not fed on a regular basis."
"So do pit bulls." Sarah wrinkled her nose.
"And you know how dangerous they are when they're riled, don't you?" Jake noticed how Sarah's lips dented in when she tried to hold back her smile. Her lips had been silky warm He frowned. "Sit down and eat, Nicholas."
Nicholas giggled. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, Jake." He turned to Sarah. "When we going fishing?"
"Don't push it, sport." Jake cut Nicholas's sandwich into quarters.
"No, it's all right. I promised I'd take him. Just let me wake up a bit and we'll see what we need, okay?" She smiled when Nicholas looked relieved. "Were you worried?"
He chewed a nail. "Sometimes people forget promises. Jake doesn't, though."
Jake's hard face softened as he spoke to Nicholas. "Promises are important, kid. I told you that."
"Do you keep all your promises?" Sarah took out milk and a tall glass.
"I don't make promises." But of course he had. He'd promised to take care of Nicholas.
Sarah opened the silverware drawer and removed an iced tea spoon. She put the spoon in the glass and poured coffee in as she thought about Jake's comment. "You never make promises?"
He tilted his chair back. "Very seldom." He frowned as he watched her.
Sarah wondered if he remembered what he'd said before he sent her from the room. Hadn't that been a promise? "That's a hard way to live. People need promises and com-
mitments from other people. They need to know they can count on each other." She added three spoonfuls of sugar to the hot coffee and then poured in cold milk to the top of the glass. Vigorously stirring, she sank into a chair.
"Most people make easy promises that aren't worth a hill of beans. So what difference does it make if I don't make any?"
"I'm not sure." She ran her finger around the chilled rim of her glass. Jake sounded annoyed. What kind of life had he had to make him so distrustful? Even in her darkest moments, she'd never been that cynical. "Don't you get lonely?"
"No." But she noticed that his eyes slid to Nicholas.
"What happens when you do make promises?" Sarah persisted, wanting to hear the words. She drank her iced coffee and watched as Jake chewed his sandwich.
"Then I keep them." He scowled and answered her question before she asked it. "Always."
"Then you're a person people can depend on." Sarah didn't like the shadow that moved over his face. He looked as though he wanted to argue but couldn't. She let him off the hook. "That's enough serious talk for the morning, right, Nicholas? Don't you think we need to head out to the lake before the day gets away from us?"
"Yeah!" Nicholas shoved his plate away and leaped up.
"Wait a minute. Sarah and I need to talk about some things first. Why don't you go outside and wait for us?"
The screen door
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