A Daddy for Jacoby

That didn’t explain why a little boy would act the same.

He shook his head to dispel the memory and concentrated on the dry batter. Minutes later, the kid walked into the kitchen wearing a stained T-shirt and a pair of jeans that almost reached his bare ankles, a hole ripped in one knee.

“Aren’t your feet cold?” Justin asked.

Jacoby looked at Justin’s own bare feet and shook his head.

“Okay, then. You hungry?”

He nodded.

“Here, hold this.” Justin handed over the sifter and pulled up a step stool to the center island. “Stand up here so you can see what’s going on.”

While climbing to the top step, Jacoby tipped the sifter. A dusting of the dry ingredients floated to the floor. “Oh, no!”

Justin saw what happened, but was more surprised by the alarm on the kid’s face. “Don’t worry, we’ll clean it up later.”

He stepped over the mess and took the sifter away. The boy now stood at waist level to the counter and his eyes grew wide at the assortment of items sitting there.

“Wow, what’s all this for?”

“Pancakes.”

“You don’t have frozen ones?” he asked.

Justin’s chest tightened for a moment and he concentrated on tapping an egg on the counter, then opening it one-handed, its contents dripping into a separate smaller bowl. “Ah, no, this is how you make pancakes from scratch.”

“What’s scratch?”

Smiling, Justin reached toward the egg carton. “It means using fresh ingredients instead of premade. Here, ever crack one of these?”

Jacoby nodded and grabbed for the two brown eggs. Both shells shattered from the boy’s overzealous grip and egg sprayed onto the edge of the counter. Automatic reflexes had Justin reaching out, but the slippery ooze fell through his fingers and the yolks landed on the top of his foot with a one-two splat.

Jacoby let loose with a four-letter curse. Stunned by the boy’s outburst, Justin just stood there. The boy smacked his hand over his mouth and the bright sheen of tears filled his eyes.

“Please don’t be mad,” he pleaded, dropping his hand and clenching a tiny fist to his chest. “I didn’t mean it! I didn’t mean to say that and I didn’t mean to drop—I didn’t! I’m sorry!”

“Hey, slow down—”

“I do this all the time. My mom gets so mad when I make a mess. I’ll clean it up, I promise.”

Jacoby started to scramble down from the step stool. It rocked to one side and Justin reached out to stop him from falling, grabbing him by the arm.

The kid cried out. Justin quickly released him, latching on to the stool instead. He had no idea what was going on, but things were going downhill and fast.

“Jacoby, it’s no big deal. I’m not mad.”

The boy froze in place, then looked up at him. He sniffed. “Are you lying?”

Geez, what had this kid lived through? Justin straightened. “No, I’m not lying.”

Huge tears and a wary disbelief filled the boy’s eyes. Justin had to do something before this situation got out of hand. But what?