BROKEN BOARDS, CHAPTER 8
BROKEN BOARDS, CHAPTER 8
A Jake Jansen Mystery.
« Chapter Seven, Down the Rabbit Hole - Chapter Nine, The Investigation Begins »
CHAPTER EIGHT - PINEAPPLE PANCAKES
“Buzzy, wake up, honey,” his mom said. “Come on, sleepy head.”
Jake rolled over, pulled the cover over his head, and grumbled.
“Come on, honey, up and at’em,” she said, smiling as she reached down and nudged him.
“A couple more minutes, mom. I’ll get up, I promise,” Jake said from underneath the blanket. He rolled over and lowered the blanket, then lay there for a moment. He reached over to the nightstand and fumbled for his phone. He hit the button to light the screen and checked the time. It was 5:30 AM. Jake sat up and put his feet on the floor and stretched. He glanced down the hallway as his mom called for him again. He smiled. He never got tired of her voice in the early morning hours. He pulled on his shorts, grabbed a shirt, and pulled it over his head, then slipped on a pair of socks.
He started down the hall, passed his parents’ bedroom, and saw his dad sleeping. It wasn’t uncommon for Jake to be up earlier than his dad, either due to football, for surfing, or to get in some early morning studying. Jake smiled as he heard dad snore, grumble, and then roll over.
Jake could smell the sweet fragrance drifting down the hall from the kitchen, and he smiled. He loved his mom’s cooking. Breakfast was her specialty. He entered the kitchen, squinting as the overhead track lighting burned brightly. Anne was standing near the stove, a hive of activity, stirring something on the stove while working on the portable griddle atop the counter between the stove and refrigerator. She reached above her head and pulled out a glass without even looking.
Jake rubbed his eyes as he sat down at the kitchen table. He looked up and watched as his mom hurried about the kitchen like an artist, moving with expertise and precision. She opened the refrigerator door, grabbed a bottle of orange juice, poured it into the glass, and put the orange juice back in the refrigerator in one fluid movement before closing the door with her foot. Jake watched in fascination, then let out an uncontrollable loud yawn. Anne turned around and smiled.
“There’s my little boy,” Anne said, placing the glass of orange juice on the table.
“Mom, I’m not little anymore,” he said as he laughed through another yawn.
“What, don’t be silly, Buzzy. You’ll always be my little boy,” she said as she quickly strolled over and kissed him on top of the head before returning to the stove. “Breakfast will be ready in two shakes,” she said. “I made your favorite.”
“Pineapple pancakes!” Jake said with excitement. “Awesome. Thanks, mom. I haven’t had them in forever.”
“Oh, stop. Don’t be so dramatic,” she said, laughing. Jake frowned at her comment.
Anne grabbed a plate from the cupboard. She set it on the counter, placing a stack of pancakes on the plate. She scooped a large pile of scrambled eggs plus multiple strips of bacon from the skillet sitting on the stove. The smell of the food brought back a flood of youthful memories. It almost made Jake’s mouth water. He yawned again and rubbed his eyes, glancing at the clock.
“So, what’s the special occasion, mom?” Jake asked.
“What do you mean, honey?” She asked, glancing over her shoulder. “Can’t a mother make her favorite son his favorite breakfast?”
“Mom, I’m your only son,” Jake said, laughing.
“Well, then, that definitely makes you my favorite!” his mom said with a big smile. She gathered the breakfast, pulled some toast from the toaster, placed it on top of the plate, took some silverware out of the drawer, and moved toward the kitchen table.
“Breakfast is served. I hope my growing boy is hungry,” she said as she placed it all on the table and then sat down across the table from him. “That will help put some meat on your bones.” Jake looked at his mom. She had a different glow this morning. Jake smiled.
“Where’s dad?” Jake said with a mouth full of food.
“Buzzy, don’t talk with your mouth full. You know better,” she replied. “Your dad is sleeping. I thought it would be a good morning for just you and me,” she said, smiling. Jake washed down his food with some orange juice.
“You know, honey, you’ve been a little too hard on your dad,” she said. “He’s doing the best he can under the circumstances.”
“Aw, mom, do we have to talk about this? Can’t we talk about something else, like surfing or football, or something else? Anything else?”
“Buzzy, this is important.”
“Aw, okay,” he said with resignation. He was starting to feel like a little kid again.
“You’re not in trouble, Buzzy. I’m not scolding you. I wouldn’t have made your favorite breakfast if you were in trouble. Now eat up but listen closely.”
Jake nodded as he listened while she continued.
“Your father is having a difficult time. But he’s working hard to deal with everything that is taking place, just like you are. This is a difficult thing to have to deal with. It wasn’t too long ago that he was dealing with his parents. I know you’re smart enough to understand that.”
Jake nodded.
“I guess so,” Jake said. “I just feel like I’m dealing with this on my own, you know. Everything isn’t easy on me either.”
“I know, honey, and I’m sorry. But understand, you need to be strong for him too. You need to be there for each other. If you shut him out, how can he be there for you if you don’t allow it?”
“But aren’t you mad at him too?” Jake asked.
“Why would I be?” She said as she grabbed her cup of coffee, taking a small drink before she continued. “Your father has been there for me every step of the way when I asked and plenty of times when I didn’t. Other times, he had other obligations as well. But when I asked, and when I truly needed him, he has been there every single, painful step of the way,” she said.
Jake picked at his food. He looked at her as if he was thinking about something. He started to say something and then stopped. He washed the food down with some orange juice. He sat his fork down for a moment.
“But he always seems like he’s never here, mom,” Jake said.
“Jake, honey, listen. Your father has been here for me and you, I promise. He’s been there constantly. I need you to think through this, okay?” Jake nodded.
“Who took off the entire block of time between Thanksgiving and New Year’s that last year to be at my side, taking me to every appointment and speaking with the doctors in elaborate detail?”
“Dad,” Jake replied as he nodded his head.
“And who’s done everything around the house? He’s done most of the housework, keeping the place clean, doing the yard work, all the grocery shopping, allowing you to go to school and play football?”
“Dad,” Jake said again.
“He’s been there for us, honey. I promise you, Buzzy, that he has done the best he could under the circumstances,” she said with heartfelt emphasis. “He’s continued to work and do his job, pay the mortgage, and put food on the table. He made a lot of time to put the Blazer back together with you. He was there at graduation. He was there for the football awards. He’s been wearing himself thin, honey,” Anne said as she reached across the table, taking Jake’s hand. She felt cold. Jake looked up at her. Her glow was dimming.
“Buzzy, I can’t stress it enough. Your dad has been there every single step of the way. He loved me every single moment of every single day, and he’s doing his best to do the same for you,” she said with a tearful smile.
“We both love you so very much and are so proud of you.”
Jake wiped at his tears. He took a drink of his orange juice and gathered his thoughts.
“I know, mom,” he replied very softly. “I know.”
Jake looked at his mom as her glow grew dimmer to the point that it was almost gone. Her hand felt even colder. Jake rubbed at his eyes.
“I love you, Buzzy. I love you more than anything in this big old world. I’m proud of you. Right now, I want you to take care of your dad and love him the way you love me, okay?”
Jake started to cry.
“Okay, mom, I will. I promise,” he said, wiping at his tears.
“Now, finish your breakfast. I need to go lie down. I’m tired,” she said, smiling. She stood up and walked over, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. She leaned down and kissed Jake on top of the head. Then she was gone. Jake felt a chill. He looked around the kitchen, and it was dark. He looked at the table in front of him; there was no plate, food, or orange juice. Jake rubbed his eyes.
As the sun started to come up, Jake’s room grew lighter.
“Jake. Jake, wake up, son,” the faint voice of his dad broke through the silence.
Jake felt a hand touching his shoulder. Then he felt the cold nose of his dog nuzzled up against his neck. Jake stirred awake slowly.
“What? What time is it? Where’s mom?” Jake said, rubbing his eyes. He looked around. He was lying in his bed as rays of sunlight shone through the window. He grabbed his phone and looked at it - 9:30 AM.
“Mom? Jake, are you okay?” Jack asked.
“A dream. It was just a dream,” Jake thought to himself.
“Yeah, dad. Yeah, I’m okay,” Jake said sleepily. He looked at Laird, rubbed him on the head, and smiled.
“I’m fine.”