Summer in Montauk

Broken Families and Waffles

I grab a jacket, and put it on, not caring about whether it matches my outfit.

When I turn around, I see Don standing in the doorway awkwardly. I walk over to my bed, and pat the spot next to me, gesturing for Don to sit there. He walks over and sits down.

I clasp his hand and sigh. This feels so right.

My stomach growls, ruining the moment.

Don heard my stomach. "Do you need me to make you something?" He asks me softly, stroking circles on my hand.

"No," I reply. "I was making pancakes for us, but they burned, obviously." I muttered, "I can't even make pancakes right."

"Oh, babes, it wasn't your fault," he replies. He drapes his arm around me and pulls me closer. I don't mind his pets names anymore. In a strange way, they're endearing.

"My mom always made the best pancakes and waffles. Pancakes and waffles were a weekly tradition." I continued, "it may seem like a small thing, but I want to be like her."

"Is your mom..." He trails off.

"Both of my parents died in an airplane crash when I was five." I explained to him. "With most people, when their parents die when they're a kid, they can't remember them well. But I loved them so much, I remember everything, and I miss them every day."

"It's okay, Sal. I'm here for you." He strokes my hair gently as I lean in to him even more. He's so comforting, I feel like I can confide in him.

"I remember them so vividly sometimes. I grew up with my uncle, and it was never quite the same. My uncle died when I was in high school. Are your parents..." It was my turn to trail off.

He stiffened and replied, "Alive? Yes. I never had the best family life. My parents didn't like me very much. They didn't like any of my siblings, either. They weren't very family oriented. Especially my father." His voice got more serious and gruff when he talked about his father. I could tell that he didn't think very highly of his father.

"I'm sorry," I say. I know what it's like to have a dysfunctional family life.

"It's okay. It's not your fault." He mutters.

"I just want to make it better." I replied.

He kissed my forehead. "I know, Hun."

I put my hands on either side of his face and turned his head towards me. "Hey, perk up. Nothing's going to interrupt this."

I kissed him, and it was in between the other two kisses that we had. It was wanting, but not needy.

We eventually fell asleep. We slept together in the most innocent form possible. He was warm and comforting, a gentle presence after missing my parents. I slept in his arms, his steady breaths luring me to sleep.

***

I woke up, and Don was still there. Light filtered through the half closed blinds. I listened to his deep breaths. He was so peaceful while he slept, as stalkerish as that may seem.

His arm was draped over me, so I tried to push off his arm softly. Apparently, he was a light sleeper. "Good morning," he said groggily.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," I replied, kissing his nose and then walking out of the room. My first priority was brushing my teeth. Then, I would change.

I walked into the kitchen, and Don is already there. He's leaning on the counter, the mischievous glint that always means trouble in his eye. He was wearing the same clothes as last night. His jeans were probably uncomfortable.