Cash whips around, leveling his spatula at me playfully. “No ma’am, you will not. This is for you two. What kind of hosts would we be if we made you walk into town first thing in the morning to eat?”
“I just—” I stare at the growing mountain of pancakes and the bacon sizzling on the other half of the griddle. “I don’t want to put you out…”
“It would be putting us out if you let all this food go to waste,” Cash declares.
I open my mouth to argue, but then let it fall closed again. I don’t even know what to say. They didn’t have to do this, hospitality be damned, but they are. It’s so hard to know how to react when someone takes care of me, instead of me being the one taking care of everything.
Cora comes farther into the kitchen, like she’s following her nose. She watches Lincoln, where he’s moved over to Cash’s side to start cracking eggs into a bowl. I’m about to tell her not to get in the way, when she reaches up and tugs on his shirt for attention, the same way she does to me.
Lincoln doesn’t get annoyed at being interrupted. He never does when Cora wants to communicate with him, but this feels… different. It’s one thing to entertain her at the bar, but this is their home. Their kitchen. Still, he crouches down to her level, his expression serious, but open.
“What can I do for you?” he murmurs quietly to Cora.
She points at the bowl of eggs and gives him large eyes. I watch as he considers that and then nods, pulling a chair over to the counter and then helping Cora climb up onto it.
“Let’s make some eggs,” he says.
There’s a lump in my throat as he guides her, showing her how to crack eggs with both hands, not even scolding her when a little of the slippery egg white misses the bowl and slops onto the counter.
Cash brings the stack of pancakes to the table and then turns to look at me. “You’ve got communication with her down pat, huh?” he asks.
“I guess so. I mean, I kind of have to, to take care of her and know what she wants.”
“Does she know sign language?”
I shake my head. “Not any formal version. We just have some signs we made up basically, so she can tell me what she needs.”
He takes that in, nodding. “Can you show me? If you two are going to live here, it would be nice to be able to communicate with her too.”
Once again, their consideration catches me off guard. Cash has been overtly nice since the moment I met him, but this is above and beyond just being hospitable. And the sincerity on his face tells me that he’s not just saying any of this to be polite. He means it.
I let some of the tension bleed out of my shoulders and sigh. “She wasn’t always mute,” I tell him. “This is… a new-ish thing. After some trauma.” Cash’s eyes soften, and he nods, not interrupting. “We developed the gestures together. Nothing too complex, just enough that I don’t have to play guessing games when it really matters.”
“We’d like to learn,” Lincoln puts in.
Everett nods his agreement, and I show them the simple signs that Cora uses to express herself when she’s hungry or tired or needs to go to the bathroom. She’s never been shy about shaking or nodding her head for no and yes, and we add new things as needed.
All three of the men listen and watch intently, matching the hand gestures I make until they’ve got them down, like it’s the most normal thing.
And then it’s time for breakfast.
Everett brings over the fruit, and Lincoln adds plates loaded down with fluffy scrambled eggs and crisp bacon to the table.
We all sit down, and I make Cora a plate, adding a little bit of everything as her nods get increasingly excited when I pause over each offering to see if she wants some.
“And some fruit,” I tell her firmly. “You can’t live off pancakes and bacon.”
“Bacon is protein,” Cash says, winking at Cora. “But fruit is also good for you.”
“Rich, coming from someone who tried to live off sour gummy worms until he was seventeen,” Lincoln says quietly, spreading butter on his pancakes and not looking up.
Cash makes a face. “I grew out of it.”
“Did you?” Everett chuckles. “So if I were to go in your room right now, I wouldn’t find a stash of snacks in your nightstand?”
“That’s neither here nor there.”
It’s so interesting, watching them go back and forth like this. I don’t get the feeling that they’re doing this for my benefit at all. This is probably what a normal morning is like for them. Banter and breakfast and these warm, familiar vibes.