features like sunrise over the mountains.
“Ohhhh …” Aaron nodded, slipping his arm around his sister’s shoulders. “Oh, yeah, Dad, we’re sorry.” Another nod. “Really.”
“And truly.”
Shannon’s added emphasis almost undid him. Dan cleared his throat, stopping the snort of laughter from escaping, and lowered the fork. “So, the war’s over then?”
A pair of nods. A shared hug. Shannon rested her cheek on her brother’s arm. “All done.”
“Well, then—” Dan lifted the bowl from the sink—“what are you waiting for? Someone plug in the griddle. Time’s a-wastin’, and I have to get to work.”
Shannon complied, then climbed up on a stool, resting her elbows on the kitchen island. “I don’t like it when you work on the weekends.”
Dan held back the sigh. “Honey, we’ve talked about this. I have to work my shift, and sometimes that means I work on Saturdays. Trouble—”
“—doesn’t take the weekends off, so people need you.” She plopped her chin in her hands. “Yeah, I know. But we need you, too.”
He stopped, a deep ache tearing at him. Such simple words, but oh, what a punch they packed.
Sarah, this is so hard without you …
“I know, baby. And I need you guys, too. A lot.”
She nodded. “But you gotta work.”
“I gotta work.”
Shannon peered at the griddle. “I still want a unicorn.”
Did all kids change moods in the blink of an eye? “Yeah, I seem to remember you saying that.”
“Can you make one, Daddy?”
Aaron leaned on the counter beside his sister. “ ’Course he can. He can make anything you want.” Aaron’s nod was pure confidence. “He even made me an armadillo once, when I was little.”
“Really? Cool!”
“That I did. Even gave it a real Texas cowboy hat.” Of course, it had looked more like a squashed turtle than an armadillo. But hey, it made Aaron happy. Dan dipped up some batter and drizzled it onto the griddle, forming the unicorn’s horn with care.
And even if this unicorn came out looking like some kindof mutant horse from Mars, Shannon wouldn’t mind. She’d love it because he made it special, just for her.
He finished the unicorn’s body and legs then used a large tablespoon to swoop a tail. Shannon watched, enrapt.
“See?” Aaron poked his sister with an elbow. “What’d I tell you? It looks real!”
Dan studied the unicorn, then smiled. Aaron was right. He’d done an especially good job on this one. It didn’t look the least bit like a turtle.
Shannon clapped her hands then hopped down from the stool to hug Dan tight. “Thank you, Daddy.”
He returned his daughter’s hug, then lifted the perfectly cooked unicorn pancake onto a plate and handed it to Shannon. She stared down at it then back up at Dan. Dismay tugged at him when he saw her lip trembling.
“What is it, honey?”
Big tears slid from her eyes. “I can’t eat him!”
“Oh, brother.”
Dan shot Aaron a warning glance, then turned the heat down on the griddle and crouched to talk with Shannon. If he’d learned anything in the past few months, it was that Shannon’s emotions were all over the map. And some days twelve was a whole lot younger than others. “It’s just a pancake.”
“No, it’s not! You made him so real, Dad.
Look
at him!”
She stuck the plate under his nose, and he obliged her by looking, then eased the plate from her hands. “Tell you what. How about if I take care of him—”
“
Eat
him, you mean.”
Dan could have swatted Aaron, especially when alarm widened Shannon’s eyes. “Daddy!”
“No, honey. I won’t eat him. I’ll … I’ll …” What on earth would he do with a pancake that wouldn’t dismay his daughter? “Tell you what. I’ll drive to a nice field somewhere and leave him there—”
“A field with lots of flowers,” she said on a sniff. “Unicorns like flowers.”
“Right.” He stood, set the plate on the counter, and turned the griddle back up. “A field with
“Ohhhh …” Aaron nodded, slipping his arm around his sister’s shoulders. “Oh, yeah, Dad, we’re sorry.” Another nod. “Really.”
“And truly.”
Shannon’s added emphasis almost undid him. Dan cleared his throat, stopping the snort of laughter from escaping, and lowered the fork. “So, the war’s over then?”
A pair of nods. A shared hug. Shannon rested her cheek on her brother’s arm. “All done.”
“Well, then—” Dan lifted the bowl from the sink—“what are you waiting for? Someone plug in the griddle. Time’s a-wastin’, and I have to get to work.”
Shannon complied, then climbed up on a stool, resting her elbows on the kitchen island. “I don’t like it when you work on the weekends.”
Dan held back the sigh. “Honey, we’ve talked about this. I have to work my shift, and sometimes that means I work on Saturdays. Trouble—”
“—doesn’t take the weekends off, so people need you.” She plopped her chin in her hands. “Yeah, I know. But we need you, too.”
He stopped, a deep ache tearing at him. Such simple words, but oh, what a punch they packed.
Sarah, this is so hard without you …
“I know, baby. And I need you guys, too. A lot.”
She nodded. “But you gotta work.”
“I gotta work.”
Shannon peered at the griddle. “I still want a unicorn.”
Did all kids change moods in the blink of an eye? “Yeah, I seem to remember you saying that.”
“Can you make one, Daddy?”
Aaron leaned on the counter beside his sister. “ ’Course he can. He can make anything you want.” Aaron’s nod was pure confidence. “He even made me an armadillo once, when I was little.”
“Really? Cool!”
“That I did. Even gave it a real Texas cowboy hat.” Of course, it had looked more like a squashed turtle than an armadillo. But hey, it made Aaron happy. Dan dipped up some batter and drizzled it onto the griddle, forming the unicorn’s horn with care.
And even if this unicorn came out looking like some kindof mutant horse from Mars, Shannon wouldn’t mind. She’d love it because he made it special, just for her.
He finished the unicorn’s body and legs then used a large tablespoon to swoop a tail. Shannon watched, enrapt.
“See?” Aaron poked his sister with an elbow. “What’d I tell you? It looks real!”
Dan studied the unicorn, then smiled. Aaron was right. He’d done an especially good job on this one. It didn’t look the least bit like a turtle.
Shannon clapped her hands then hopped down from the stool to hug Dan tight. “Thank you, Daddy.”
He returned his daughter’s hug, then lifted the perfectly cooked unicorn pancake onto a plate and handed it to Shannon. She stared down at it then back up at Dan. Dismay tugged at him when he saw her lip trembling.
“What is it, honey?”
Big tears slid from her eyes. “I can’t eat him!”
“Oh, brother.”
Dan shot Aaron a warning glance, then turned the heat down on the griddle and crouched to talk with Shannon. If he’d learned anything in the past few months, it was that Shannon’s emotions were all over the map. And some days twelve was a whole lot younger than others. “It’s just a pancake.”
“No, it’s not! You made him so real, Dad.
Look
at him!”
She stuck the plate under his nose, and he obliged her by looking, then eased the plate from her hands. “Tell you what. How about if I take care of him—”
“
Eat
him, you mean.”
Dan could have swatted Aaron, especially when alarm widened Shannon’s eyes. “Daddy!”
“No, honey. I won’t eat him. I’ll … I’ll …” What on earth would he do with a pancake that wouldn’t dismay his daughter? “Tell you what. I’ll drive to a nice field somewhere and leave him there—”
“A field with lots of flowers,” she said on a sniff. “Unicorns like flowers.”
“Right.” He stood, set the plate on the counter, and turned the griddle back up. “A field with
Similar Books
