Page 44 of Oathbreaker

“Blow drying her hair. That takes a long time.”

“Have you had breakfast?”

“No.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Do you even know how to cook?”

“I make a pretty mean waffle.”

“The frozen kind?”

This kid really is a ball-buster, but that’s okay. I kind of like that in a woman.

“Not the frozen kind, smarty-pants,” I say, ruffling her hair. “I make them from scratch. Want to help me?”

“Nope.” She’s not looking up again, but that’s okay.

Consistency, Briar said. Letting her know I’m not going anywhere, even when she’s having a tantrum. Or being difficult. I’m sure this won’t be the last time.

I make a cup of coffee and start scouring Briar’s cupboards for the ingredients I need. It’s funny—this is one of the only things I remember from my childhood. Before my dad died and everything went to hell. Before grief sent my mom off the deep end of alcoholism. Before the beatings and?—

No. I’m not going to re-live that. She had her demons, I have mine. I’m not bringing that into my relationship with my daughter.

Luckily, Briar has a very well-stocked pantry. Now if I can just find the mixer.

“Frankie, do you know where Mommy keeps the mixer?”

Still not looking up, she uses one hand to point.

I don’t know whether to laugh or cry, but I get out the mixer and then go back into the pantry. I saw some white chocolate chips. I don’t usually add them, but this might be fun. Especially since I know there are strawberries in the fridge.

The waffle iron is on the counter, so I heat it while I mix everything together. Then, as the first batch is cooking, I get another bowl to make fresh whipped cream—with a touch of melted white chocolate. Briar loves fresh whipped cream, and white chocolate is her favorite.

Well, it was.

People don’t just change their love for chocolate, do they?

Hopefully not.

“What are you doing?” Frankie demands, and I realize she’s standing next to me.

“Making fresh whipped cream.”

“I don’t like whipped cream.”

“That’s okay—your mom does.”

“How do you know?”

“Because your mom and I have been friends for a long time. Since long before you were born. I know lots of things about her.”

“What’s her favorite color?”

“Green.”

Frankie seems surprised I know the answer.