“Of course,” I replied.
She stared at me a moment longer then started to walk down the stairs. I stood frozen not sure if she wanted me to actually leave.
Stopping and glancing back over her shoulder at me she smiled, “Come on. I’ll feed you while you wait.” She then continued down the stairs and I smiled to myself while I followed her. Who was I to disobey her mom?
Once we got in the kitchen her mother opened a cabinet and got down the pancake mix, a large bowl and a spoon. “Here read the directions and start mixing up my batter while I get the griddle hot,” she directed as she shoved the items into my arms.
I hadn’t planned on cooking breakfast with Pagan’s mother but it was past time she and I talked. Our last private conversation had been the night I’d confronted her about Pagan’s soul.
“The key to getting pancakes just the way Pagan likes them is to use a lot of butter. Real butter. It makes the edges crisp.” I filed that piece of information away to use on a later date.
“When she was little I’d make her pancakes into the shape of Mickey Mouse. Well, his head at least. She loved them. She’d make eyes and a nose and a mouth with fruit and then cover it all with syrup.”
I remembered the green eyes too big for her face staring up at me from the hospital bed that day I’d gone to talk to her. She’d lost all her hair and her face was frail and thin but her mind had been sharp as a tack. After that day I’d always remembered her when I walked into the rooms of dying children to explain to them what was to come. Her face had always come to mind and I’d wondered what had happened with that soul. Even then she’d had a sort of hold on me.
Her mother took the bowl from my hands. Luckily I’d managed to stir the milk, eggs, and mix together properly. Her approving nod was oddly relieving.
“So Dank Walker, you ever going to tell me exactly what you are?”
I’d wondered if now that Pagan was home, safe and sound, free of voodoo spirits that wanted her soul, her mother would ever question me about my admission that I wasn’t human.
Clearing my throat I leaned a hip against the counter and crossed my arms over my chest. I wasn’t sure she really wanted the answer to this question.
“Well, that depends on if you really want me to tell you. It might be best if you just know that I will protect her for all eternity. She’ll never have to fear death.” I stopped on that last word and waited. Her mother had just poured some batter onto the sizzling griddle and she froze for a moment then slowly lowered the bowl and spoon to the counter. Her head turned as if in slow motion until her eyes were staring incredulously into mine.
“Are you saying... I mean you can’t be... are you saying... no, no that can’t be right,” she shook her head and gave me one last small frown before turning her attention back to the pancake in front of her. She flipped it then placed it on a plate and handed it to me.
“First one is always the best. Why don’t you get started... that is if you... do you eat?”
I didn’t hide my amusement as I reached for the plate. “Yes, I eat. Eternity would be awfully boring without food.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Pagan
My mother’s laughter carried up the stairs as I peeled open my eyelids and stared at the alarm clock that hadn’t gone off this morning. Probably because I hadn’t set it but that was just details. A low voice carried up the stairs and my mother’s high pitched voice began chatting away again. She wasn’t on the phone. Someone was here.
Sitting straight up in bed I covered my mouth. Had my mom let Roger sleep over? She’d never in all my life had a boyfriend sleep over. Swinging my legs over the side of the bed I grabbed my short yellow bathrobe and hurried out the door to catch her red-handed. It wasn’t that I cared really. It would just be fun to hold over her head.
Running down the steps taking two at a time I hit the bottom step and took off around the corner then came skidding to a halt. Seated at my kitchen table with a pile of pancakes and bacon filling the plate in front of him was Dank. His dark curls were perfectly messy and the pale blue shirt I’d convinced him to buy because it would make his eyes stand out even more hugged his well-defined chest. A touch of humor lit his eyes and his lips were in a sexy little smirk that was so incredibly kissable. Kissable was exactly what I was supposed to be enjoying this morning. Last I’d spoken with Dank he was going to wake me up with kisses.
I shifted my gaze to my mother who sat smiling as if she knew a secret with her hands both cupping what was probably her fourth cup of coffee today. She’d tucked her unstyled hair behind her ears and her glasses were perched on her nose like a school teacher.
“What are y’all doing?” I asked incredulously.
“We’re eating breakfast and talking. Which you could be doing if you’d get up on time,” my mother replied with a little tartness to her tone. It drove her nuts that I slept so late.
“These pancakes are really good, Pagan. I can’t believe you don’t get up early enough to enjoy these every morning,” Dank piped in.
I glowered at him, “Is that so?”
He nodded as he stuck another forkful into his mouth. The traitor. He’d passed up coming in my room to wake me up for my mother’s pancakes.
“I hope you enjoy your pancakes. I’m going to go get ready now since my alarm clock didn’t wake me up on time. Must have been preoccupied with something else.” I snapped and headed back up the stairs. My mother’s smothered laughter told me that maybe my alarm clock had gotten derailed from his mission by the mothership.
“Stinking pancakes,” I muttered and went to get a shower.