No Need for Goodbyes

Better Than We'd Planned (Part 1)

takes place after the events of Like Father, Like Son chapter 4, 'Old Friends and Even Older Stories' 

~

SEPTEMBER 1909

ERIK

I awoke to the sound of a tree branch hitting my bedroom window with such force I thought I would have to be cleaning up glass. I looked outside and my heart sank for the boy who was seemingly still asleep down the hall. We were supposed to go to the beach that day, but it seemed the weather had a much different plan. I hadn't seen it rain like that in a long time.

Once I had my housecoat on, I made my way over to Gustave's room, but given the fact that he was curled in a ball under his duvet, I guessed that he already knew about the current weather situation.

"Look outside," a small voice grumbled beneath the covers, confirming my suspicions

"Gustave, don't be up-"

"It was going to be a perfect day and now it's gone because the stupid weather report couldn't get one thing right." He had a point. Gustave had been following the weather diligently for the past week in preparation for our day out, yet not a single meteorologist predicted anything close to the downpour outside.

I sat down next to the mountain of sheets that somehow contained my son. "Come on, my boy. It'll be alright, we can still make it a perfect day."

His initial response was curling up tighter before mumbling, "I had it all planned. What could be better?"

"I'm sure we can figure something out. Why don't we go down for breakfast to start? I'll make whatever you'd like."

Thankfully, that coaxed his head out from somewhere under the blankets. "I was really looking forward to the chocolate pancakes at the breakfast place we were going to stop at," he explained.

I couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of how in-depth he had planned our day, even to the point where he had called ahead and planned his breakfast meal. "Well, I have what we need for pancakes, and I believe I have chocolate I can melt over them. How does that sound?"

"Can I flip them?" he asked tentatively, his words carrying a threat to go back under the covers, never to be seen again.

Knowing what the response would be if I didn't at least grant him some responsibility, I conceded: "Sure. I'll be right there to watch you and help if you need me to."

I barely had time to blink before Gustave flung the covers off, stepped into his slippers and raced downstairs. By the time I had made my way down to join him, I was greeted with the anxiety-inducing sight of him perched on top of the counter retrieving ingredients from the cupboards.

"You couldn't wait thirty seconds for me to come down?" The worry was clear in my voice, I could tell.

"Where's the fun in that?" he laughed.

I immediately got behind him to make sure I was there if he slipped. "Well, the fun is that you won't risk falling off the counter and cracking your skull, but what do I know? I'm just your father."

"I'll be fine, Papa. You worry a lot."

"That's basically second nature to me, my boy. But while you're up there, grab the sugar."

"I already got it," Gustave said as he nearly hit me square between the eyes to point to the smaller bag next to the one that held the flour.

"Well, look at you. You're very efficient, aren't you?" I remarked as I looked on the counter to see that he had already retrieved the pan and nearly half of the dry ingredients. "I swear you've only been up there for a moment. How did you do that so fast?"