The Only Exception >> L.H.

02: "pancakes and crumbly eggs"

"No," he admits. "And I'm not sure I want to. I'm not ready to face that yet."

"Don't you at least want to"

"Can we please just stop talking about this?" Luke argues, cutting me off.

A sharp cry fills the room. Luke jumps up and walks over to the bassinet, reaching down to pick up the now-awake child. He gently bounces her in his arms, lulling her back to sleep.

I stand beside him, peering over his shoulder at the baby girl. Her eyes are closed, but I assume they're the same as Luke's.

"She's so beautiful. What's her name?"

"Grace," he answers.

"She looks like you. She's got the nose and the lips," I say, a smile spreading across my face.

"Yeah. Hey, where did you get this thing, anyway?" Luke asks, pointing his foot at the bassinet.

"Sometimes I watch Melvin's kids. He and his husband adopted a boy and a girl, siblings."

"He settled down? Who's the lucky guy?"

"His name's Sam. They met in college. He's pretty awesome, and he can cook," I say.

My mouth waters at the thought of chicken tetrazzini and sparkling champagne imported from Europe.

"Good for him. Sounds like he's better off than some of us," Luke says. "Not that your life sucks. I was talking about me. I'm sure you're doing fine. I'm assuming. I wouldn't know because, you know, I don't-"

"It's fine, Luke," I interrupt. "I'm doing pretty well. I'll go get your clothes. They should be dry by now."

I leave temporarily to take his clothes out of the dryer, folding them before handing them to him. He thanks me and sets them down on his lap.

"You're going to have to sleep on the couch tonight," I tell him. "I have a guest room, but it's full of stuff. I'll start cleaning it out tomorrow."

"Thank you. I do appreciate you letting me stay here. I'm sorry if this is weird," Luke says, his voice trailing off.

"I appreciate the gratitude. Anything for an old friend."

I say goodnight and head back to my room down the hall. I slip under the large duvet and stare at the ceiling, wondering what things I would face tomorrow when reality sinks in.

-

I wake up the next morning to the smell of coffee, soon followed by smoke. The fire alarm blares throughout the house, murdering my eardrums. I slip into my robe and slippers and rush down the hall.

Black air sleeps through the crack from the door to the kitchen. I'm overwhelmed by it entering my lungs. Luke is fanning a pillow over the blaring alarm, holding open the window above the sink with his other hand.

I pull open the sliding back door and climb on the counter, pushing his hands aside to shut off the alarm.

"What are you doing? Trying to burn my house down?" I ask once the incessant noise stopped.

"I was trying to make you breakfast. I figured it was the least I could do since I showed up at your house in the middle of the night," he replies sheepishly.

"Oh."

Really? Oh? He made you breakfast -sort of- and you say oh?

Despite my words, I'm very moved by what he wanted to do. It's sweet, in a friendly way. Not even Melvin would make me breakfast on days he crashed at my place.

"The coffee's fine, but I used up the rest of your eggs for the omelet."

"That's fine," I shrug. "I have to stop by my office real quick. We can grab a bite after. Maccas sound good?"

"Did I just ruin your nonstick pan? Yes!"

"You ruined my nonstick pan?!" I shout.

"What? No."

-

"Nothing beats pancakes and crumbly eggs," Luke says as he digs into his breakfast.

I grin and unwrap my breakfast burrito and say, "Yeah, but you still owe me a nonstick pan."

"It was an accident!" Luke exclaims with food in his mouth.

"I know, I'm teasing you," I say.

I lightly push on his arm, but he doesn't move in the slightest. He stares down at the spot where my hand touched and then goes back to eating.

"So," I start. "What do you do for work?"

"I'm a music teacher. It's not the best job, but it pays. I'm doing what I love," he answers. "How 'bout you?"

"I own a business. Well, Melvin and I run it together. A&M's Ideal Weddings."

He nearly chokes on his food, coughing violently until his face turns red. I stare at him in bewilderment.

"What?"

"Nothing. I just-" he pauses to clear his throat. "I never expected that you would be a wedding designer. What's that like?"

"Not as interesting as it sounds. It's mostly taking in orders, filling out papers, and making sure everything is exactly the way the bride wants," I tell him. "I help design the centerpieces and meet with the clients. It's nice to be a part of something magical."

"You sound like - never mind."

I'm left to wonder what he was going to say as he turns to Grace. He rocks the carrier she's in, making faces at her. I smile at him and finish my breakfast, already planning on how to tell Melvin he's back.