Finding Scarlet

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five

Toby

I've been crashing on Cameron's couch for the past couple days.

My dad has tried to reach me a couple times; he rang my cell phone, and then Cameron's home phone—probably thinking that that would get a better hold of me. But I would just ignore him each way.

I don't want to deal with him right now.

But I can't stop thinking of mom. What would she think? My dad and I were finally on good terms, and then out of the blue we're not anymore. She is probably so confused, and hurt too.

But I can't tell her what's causing a rift between us; it'll just make her unhappy. I can't do that to her, not with all that she's been through.

I just want her to be happy.

I hear something sizzle from the kitchen, and then the overwhelming smell of batter fills the air.

"Toby," Cameron's mom says, peeking her head into the living room. "I'm cooking pancakes. Would you like any?"

Cameron's mother is a classic southern lady. Her accent is thick; she is very good at cooking, and well... very southern.

"Oh no—"

"—Of course he'll have some! It's the best pancakes on this earth!"

I look over and see Cameron stroll into the kitchen, only in his boxers and a white t-shirt. He grins cheekily at me.

"It is a secret recipe, if I must admit." His mom giggles, as Cameron leans over to give her a kiss on the cheek. He steals a piece of bacon in the process, and as he shoves it in his mouth his mother swats him with a dishtowel, a disapproving look on her face. Cameron just scampers away and laughs.

It's uncanny how similar Cameron and his mother are. Not only do they look the same, but also they both have that goofball side to them.

But boy, is she intimidating.

"How many would you like, Toby?" She asks me.

"Uh, three is fine." I answer as I stretch, before I jump off the couch and come up to the counter.

"Okay, four it is."

She must have seen my bewildered look, for she narrows her eyes at me and points her spatula in my direction. "Look at you, honey. You barely got any meat on those bones of yours!"

"Mom." Cameron groans, before smiling at me apologetically.

"Don't you mom me." She says, giving Cameron a look that would make any man cower away from before then turns to me. "Now I want you to eat all four of those pancakes, ya hear?"

"Yes 'mam."

"Mom, could we take those pancakes up into my room? Toby and I got a senior project to work on."

"Alright." She plops a good helping of pancakes onto two plates—dripping in maple syrup and topped with strawberries and whipped cream—before handing them to us. "But if I find one crumb on the floor Cameron I swear to god almighty—"

"Noted. Bye mom!"

We swiftly leave the kitchen and head down the hall to Cameron's room. It's a simple set up: bed, desk, chair, closet, and a mirror. But plastered on the walls like a mural are photos he has taken over the years; places he's been, snapshots of his family, pictures of Cameron and I, and of course tons of Jessica.