A Place of His Own by Kathleen Fuller

since he’d had someone make him breakfast, other than a cook in a restaurant? Years, since his mamm died. He swallowed as more memories overcame him, thoughts of his mother’s buckwheat pancakes and homemade maple syrup so sweet and rich he would eat until almost bursting. His favorite breakfast, one she made for him often. What he wouldn’t do to taste those pancakes now.
    â€œI hope you’re hungry. I’m used to cooking for a crowd, and I think I made too much.” The oven door squeaked painfully as she opened it. Reaching inside, she pulled out a platter piled high with— he couldn’t believe it—pancakes.
    She lightly touched the top one. “The oven’s not working yet, but the pancakes are still warm. Can you yell for Andrew and Thomas to come in?”
    He hesitated. The scene seemed so strange, like he had gone back in time to when he and Amanda used to play that silly game of house. Only now it seemed almost real.
    â€œJosiah?” She looked at him as she set the pancakes on the table. “If we wait much longer, they’ll be cold.”
    He nodded and walked out the back door. Obviously the boys had made up with each other, because they were both climbing the old oak tree about twenty yards from the house. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled. “Andrew! Thomas! Breakfast, nau !”
    The boys scrambled down the tree and broke into a sprint. He could tell they were racing, and the sight brought a smile to his face. A couple of inches shorter than his older brother, Thomas had a more natural stride. But Andrew had a superior kick, which he employed when they were a few feet from the house. They finished even.
    â€œI . . . won!” Andrew said, gasping for air.
    â€œ Nee ,” Thomas said, not sounding quite as winded. “I won.” He looked up at Josiah. “Didn’t I, Mr. Josiah?”
    Josiah cleared his throat, trying to maintain a serious tone. “It was a tie.”
    â€œNaw,” Andrew said. “I beat him by a mile.”
    â€œMr. Josiah said it was a tie, so it was a tie.” Thomas gazed up at him again.
    A mix of pride and possessiveness filtered through Josiah as he took in the young boy’s admiring gaze. To be considered with such unabashed regard was humbling. Unable to stop himself, he reached out and ruffled Thomas’s hair.
    â€œWhat’s taking you so long?” Amanda appeared on the back stoop. She looked at her brothers. “Wash up now. I fixed your favorite—pancakes and bacon.”
    â€œAwesome!” Andrew and Thomas gave each other a high five, then ran inside the house.
    Josiah turned around and faced Amanda. “You didn’t have to make breakfast, you know.”
    Instead of protesting as he expected, she simply smiled, winked at him, then went back inside the house.
    He let out a sigh. Pancakes and a beautiful woman. How could he resist that? Somehow he had to try. But not until after breakfast.
    Andrew and Thomas inhaled their food, and Amanda sent them outside to play again until she and Josiah were finished eating. Then they could all get started on the work of the day.
    She cut her pancake in half, then in quarters before pouring a small amount of syrup over the pieces. Glancing up, she noticed Josiah had his head down again, eating nearly as fast as the boys had. “Is my cooking that bad?”
    He glanced up, one protruding cheek stuffed with food. “What?”
    â€œThe food. Is it so bad you can’t slow down and taste it?”
    A sheepish expression crossed his features. He chewed, slowly, and swallowed. “Just the opposite. It’s very tasty.”
    She smiled. “I’m glad you enjoy it. I think you’ll enjoy it more if you don’t stuff it down your throat.”
    â€œAre you telling me how to eat my breakfast?”
    â€œI suppose I am. Seems to me you need some tutoring in that area.”
    â€œIs that so?”