The Edge of Misery: The Mitchel Brothers Series Book Two

13

Wren stared out the kitchen window, watching Declan and Eldon walk to the bathhouse, and couldn't help but cluck her tongue before she turned to Emmaline and asked, "Are all boys as moody as him?"

"Some more than others," Emmaline nodded, "Declan surely was—still is, even at his age. I'm not sure it's something they grow out of."

Wren grunted.

"Takes after his daddy that way, rest his soul," Emmaline softly added after a moment, laying several strips of bacon on the hot cast iron pan on the stove's front burner.

"That answers my next question," Wren sighed, turning to her bowl of dry ingredients and adding the egg and milk for the hotcakes.

"And what question was that, dear?"

Wren cradled the bowl in her arms, hugging it to her body, and began stirring the batter as she leaned her hip against the counter to look at Emmaline, "If Declan's always been the way he is... or if it's only since bein' here."

"The way he is?"

Wren nodded. "Him bein' a jackass and all."

"He surely is one of those, Wren honey," Emmaline chuckled. "Got that from his daddy too... cut from the same cloth they were—in every way but appearance... Wooly is Norman's spitting image."

Silence stretched between them, broken only by the sizzling and spattering of bacon grease in the pan until Emmaline said, "There are days I look at Declan, amazed at what a fine man he's turned out to be—further amazed we're still on speaking terms—because the Good Lord knows in those first several years after Norman... died... I did not like him... I loved him because he was my son and a living reminder of my cherished husband. But countless nights I cried myself to sleep, wondering how any of us would survive when Declan was a nightmare to be around."

"We ready for hotcakes yet?" Wren murmured, wanting to know more but unsure how to ask when it was apparent the topic was not a pleasant one.

"Just about," Emmaline nodded, smiling at Wren over her shoulder. Then returning her attention to the bacon, she transferred several crispy strips to a nearby plate, adjusted a few more in the pan, and said, "The important thing to remember when dealing with Declan is despite his moodiness and bluster... and heaven knows he has more than enough of both—especially at times when you're not in the emotional state to deal with a teaspoon's worth," she paused and sighed and scooped out a few strips, then continued, "when he's at his absolute worst and declares, 'I'm a jackass, remember?'"

Wren snorted a laugh.

Emmaline winked at her and gently added, "Know that deep inside, he has one of the kindest, gentlest, and most generous hearts I've ever known."

"I've noticed," Wren murmured.

"And," Emmaline whispered, transferring the last strips of bacon to the waiting plate, then covering it with another before setting her fork on the counter and turning to settle her hands on Wren's shoulders. "I'll let you in on a little secret that took me twenty-nine years to figure out about him if you'd like."

Wren grinned as she softly replied, "I'm not gonna pass on an offer like that."

Glancing out the kitchen window first, Emmaline gently brushed a wisp of hair out of Wren's face and tucked it behind her left ear, then leaned in and quietly said, "He's only ever truly a jackass when he's scared, worried, or guilty—though he'll deny any of those reasons to be the cause."

"Then d'you think him avoidin' me yesterday—"

"Without a doubt, he was either scared or worried about something, honey," Emmaline chuckled.