Not Just the Family Business

Breakfast in America

I woke up the next morning to the sound of birds chirping and the smell of coffee brewing. As I sat up, my body cracked from the lumpy surface of the couch. I stretched for good measure. Over the couch, I could see Bobby in the kitchen reading the newspaper. I got up and crutched over to join him.

"Mind if I pour myself a cup?" I asked.

"Not at all." Bobby didn't take his eyes off the paper. "If there isn't enough for Sam, let me know and I'll brew another pot."

With my crutches balanced under my arms, I carefully poured myself a mugful. There was plenty left for Sam to enjoy. I placed the pot back on the warmer.

"Sugar is in the cupboard above the coffee maker and there's milk and cream in the fridge," Bobby said.

"Thanks, but I like mine as black as demons' eyes." I grabbed my bag of ice out of the freezer and joined Bobby at the table. I propped my leg on the window sill beside us. Bobby carefully folded up the paper. "Feel free to keep reading. I just gotta get off that couch for a few minutes."

"It is pretty well-worn, isn't it?" Bobby asked.

"I've slept on worse." I took a sip of my coffee.

"How late were you two up last night?" Bobby asked.

"I think around two," I said. "We wanted to finish the game we started."

"Kicking his ass yet?" Bobby asked.

"No, I'm not. Sam's really good." I smiled.

"He always was a smart kid." Bobby grinned, too. "I know I may be biased, but you won't find a better guy around. Both of my boys. They've been through a lot, but they're good to their core."

"It's because someone great helped raise them," I said. "They're so grateful for you, Bobby."

A small smile pulled at his lips as tears filled his eyes. "They deserved a good influence. Their dad was troubled. I just let them be kids."

"They love you for it," I said.

Just then, Sam joined us. Although, he didn't come from the upstairs like I expected him to. Sam walked in through the front door. He wore a tight gray tank top that had a little bit of sweat on it. A subtle glow coated all his exposed skin. I knew I shouldn't, but my eyes traced all the contours of his body. 

"Thanks for the coffee, Bobby." Sam walked over to the coffee maker. 

My eyes were glued to him like someone had put a spell on me. He reached up to grab a specific mug from one of the topmost shelves, and his shirt rose exposing his hip bones. As he grabbed the milk from the fridge and poured it into the mug, his biceps bulged. He added the coffee on top then came to join us.

"Good, you're icing." Sam took a sip from his coffee. "How does it feel today?"

I had to snap myself out of my trance. "G-good."

Sam raised his brows. "Are you okay?"

"Yep. Never better." Sam eyed me skeptically as he took another sip. "How'd you sleep?"

"Soundly. I think you tired me out," I said, and then realized how it sounded and quickly added, "My brain, that is."

Sam leaned over to Bobby. "How many cups of coffee has she had?"

"That's her only one." Bobby chuckled.

"I need to use the restroom." I tried to get up and ended up kicking the table, which sent a torrent of pain through my whole foot and ankle. Some of Bobby and my coffee splashed onto the table, and my ice bag fell on the floor.