Loving the Ice Queen

Chapter 15

Ryan

"Dad! Wake up, wake up, wake up!"

I cracked my eyes open. Jeremy was jumping on my bed. His small weight barely moved the mattress with me on it. With a groan, I pushed the comforter away.

"Alright, alright, I'm up," I said. Jeremy was grinning so widely I could see his molars. I laughed and tackled him, digging my fingers into his sides. The boy squealed, kicking his legs and giggling.

"Why did you wake me up?" I asked once Jeremy gained his breath.

"Barbara is cooking waffles!"

"Did you wake her up?"

"Maybe?" he said.

"Jeremy..."

"What?! She didn't mind," he said. "I was worried she'd leave and I wouldn't get to see her."

I sighed. "She wouldn't have. I told her yesterday that you wanted to see her in the morning. She told me she wouldn't leave without seeing you first."

"Oh." He frowned. "She did?"

"Yes, Barbara keeps her promises," I said. "Now get out of here. I'll wash up and come down."

Jeremy rushed out. I freshened up, thinking about the previous night. We'd spent a couple of hours talking. Mainly me speaking about my childhood. She seemed to enjoy listening to me. It was as if she needed a break from the darkness she'd spilled out.

Even though my grandparents had made sure to give me all the love and attention my parents didn't, my childhood hadn't been the greatest. But compared to hers, it was heaven.

I remembered her weight against me. She was warm and smelled good. Her presence filled a void I hadn't known existed inside of me. I wished I could spend more time with her. It was incredible how quickly I'd gotten used to her.

Going down the stairs, the smell of waffles, eggs and coffee made my mouth water.

Barbara was standing next to the stove, her hair piled on top of her head, my hoodie and sweatpants dwarfing her. Jeremy was kneeling on a stool next to her, stirring a pot.

Barbara glanced over her shoulder at me, then quickly back to Jeremy.

"Good morning," she said. "I'm sorry, Jeremy was hungry so I made use of your kitchen."

I looked at the spread on the kitchen island and smiled. "Sweetheart, you can use my kitchen anytime you want if I'm going to get breakfast."

There were three plates of scrambled eggs and a stack of fresh waffles.

"What are you doing?" I asked, standing next to Jeremy.

"I'm stirring oatmeal," Jeremy replied, a focused look on his face. "Is it thick enough yet, Barbara?"

"Just a little more," she said, and took two bananas out of the fruit basket.

I checked the coffee and poured two cups, then got Jeremy's juice.

"Alright, Jeremy. I think it's enough," she said, taking over the task of pouring the thick mix in three bowls. The smell of sugar and cinnamon was thick in the air. "Do you mind peeling the bananas?"

"Sure!" Jeremy said, smiling.

I watched the two of them, the sight making my heart hurt. This was what Jeremy deserved. Why couldn't Miranda be half as thoughtful as Barbara?

Jeremy said something and laughed. A small smile pulled at Barbara's lips.

A few minutes later, we were all sitting on one side of the island, Jeremy between the two of us. Jeremy and I inhaled the food. Breakfast was usually a quick affair for us, just cereal or some toast.