It was still dark when he woke, just the way he preferred it. Gave him time to drink coffee and get a little extra work done in the early hours.
Not that he didn’t love his son, but he treasured these early mornings to himself. He pulled the curtains open to keep an eye on the time.
He set the coffee to brew and put last night’s dishes away. He got out one work folder and began doing his calculations only stopping to pour himself a cup of coffee that was honestly much closer to “half a cup of sugar, sprinkled with a little bit of coffee.” At least that was how Finley had always described it.
He finished up just in time to watch the rose-coloured fingers of dawn reach across the sky. Time to get started on breakfast.
He pulled out the large frying pan and got out four eggs… was this going to be a French toast morning or just regular eggs?
After a moment of debate he settled on French toast. Besides, the bread he’d baked yesterday was perfect for it.
He carved off a few slices from the loaf, the crust was perfect. He’d really gotten quite good at this whole baking thing, maybe he should pursue that daydream of his own bakery. At any rate, he was never going back to store bought again.
He cracked the eggs in a shallow dish, tossing the empty shells in the compost. He added his secret blend for the best French toast to the eggs and gave it a mix before setting the bread to soak.
He washed his hands, plopped a pat of butter in the frying pan and started heating it up, and soon enough it was time to add the eggy bread.
If King knew anything it was that by the time the second slice of toast was done, Gold was going to come around the corner into the kitchen.
On cue, the boy arrived, dressed and ready to take on the day, “Good morning, my sunshine boy.”
“Morning dad. You know I’m old enough I can make my own breakfast, right?”
“You can make your own breakfast when you can manage to wake up early enough.”
“Aqua and I were up late talking on the phone about how many kids we’re gonna have.”
“Oh? Did you reach a decision?”
“Not yet, still trying to coax her up to half a dozen.”
“Good luck with that - don’t expect me to be their babysitter though, this house has a strict three children only policy, you know.”
Gold stuck out his tongue and they both laughed, “If you really do want to help, you can get out the syrup and honey. And grab the grapes and apples from the fridge, I’m going to make fruit salad.”
“I can make the fruit salad, it’s just cutting stuff up, right?”
“…I suppose, if you want.”
King hovered around the kitchen nervously, watching the teen with the knives closely but he didn’t need to worry. Gold had this handled and soon enough there were two bowls of fruit salad to go with their French toast.
The table was set and the two dug in, the kitchen filled with the clinking of cutlery and dishes. They talked about a new movie coming out that Gold was going to go see with his friends. Something about superheroes? King never could keep track of what was popular these days. Soon enough it was time for Gold to head out the door, backpack in hand.
“See you after school! Have a great day!”
“You too, dad! Love you!”
And with his son off to school, he had just enough time to get the dishes done and get dressed himself before heading to work.
The sun shone, burning red in his eyelids and forcing him awake. He peeled his face off the book he’d been reading. He’d fallen asleep at his desk. Again.
With a sigh he stood up and heard his knees, neck and spine all crack. It hurt, but not as much as he expected. Maybe he was starting to get used to it.
He trundled to the kitchen and swung open the fridge door, rattling the half empty bottles he really should have thrown out by now. He peered inside and scowled, his bowl of boiled eggs was empty and that meant he’d have to make more.
With a frustrated huff he pulled out the egg carton and set it on the counter so he could fill the pot with more water for boiling and set up the coffee to brew.
He set the last of his eggs inside the pot and tossed the carton into the growing pile of cartons he really should get around to throwing out.
He just stared down into it for far too long before turning his attention to the writing on his wall. He was pretty sure he’d been on to something last night.
He was still scribbling equations when he heard the water hiss against the stovetop and it still took him a number or two to register what that was. The eggs were boiled over.
He stomped back to the stove and turned it off before filling a bowl with cold water and started pulling out and dropping the eggs into it with his bare hands - the burns didn’t feel too bad, honestly.
His coffee was also ready, and he dumped his sugar into his mug clumsily, still way too much of it for any sane man. But there was really nothing sane about him, was there?
He took his coffee into his workspace - he’d peel the eggs later. He had work to do.
He woke with a jolt in the dark, heart still pounding hand still reflexively grasping at the sheets. He wiped his face from the tears he knew were there.
He stood and moved to the kitchen - it wasn’t like he was going to get back to sleep anyway.
He smiled a little as he looked at the empty dish rack; Purple must’ve put the dishes away last night before they’d gone to bed.
But that left him with not a whole lot to do but stare out the window and let himself cry. He had quite the backlog of tears, after all.
And he could not cry forever. He had to move forward. He had a lot of time of his hands this morning, what was he going to do with it?
He looked in the cupboards, freshly supplied with everything they used to have before. His eyes settled on the bag of flour Purple had bought when he’d off-handedly mentioned that he used to bake bread and nodded to himself.
He was going to bake bread for Purple. They deserved it; they’d been so good to him when he didn’t deserve it.
No, no negative self talk, he’s just going to do it.
He made sure he had everything he needed - kneaded, get it Dad?
He hadn’t made bread in a long time, not since before…
More crying. More coffee.
He had to focus. He measured everything out and got started mixing it together. Waiting for it to rise gave him time to think and cry some more.
But giving himself that time to cry was good. It gave him focus when it came to kneading the dough. When it came to setting the oven temperature. When it came to moving forward.
And soon the house was filled with the scent of baking bread, and it smelled as good as King remembered.
It also woke Purple as he came stumbling out of the guest room - that was really just Purple’s room at this point and Purple was no longer just a guest here, after all. He was family.
“Smells really good, Baba,” Purple remarked as they sat down at the table. They didn’t comment on the dried tear tracks on King’s cheeks. They knew better at this point and honestly, letting him grieve was good for him.
“Well, hopefully it tastes as good as it smells. It’s been a while since I’ve done any baking.”
“I’m sure it will,” Purple reassured, sitting down at the table across from King. The pair sat in silence for a moment before King stood up and grabbed a wire rack to set the bread on, along with his bread carving knife and the butter dish, just in time for the oven to ding.
With his oven mitts on he pulled the perfectly golden loaf out and set it on the wire rack to cool for a moment, “What do you want on your slice, Purple?”
“Alright then, but we do have honey or jam if-”
“ I know, I was with you when we went shopping, Baba.”
King smiled, trying to make it clear he wasn’t upset, despite the tone he’d used there.
He carved the heel off the loaf an set it on a plate for himself. The heels were always his favourite parts and then he carved another slice off for Purple.
He buttered them both and brought them to the table. Purple took a big bite as soon as it was in front of him, “Oh, this is so much better than Minecraft bread!”
“Is it? I’ve never had Minecraft bread before,” King arched an eyebrow before biting into his own slice. Yep, he could still make great bread. Good. “So, what are you up to today?”
“Green invited me over to the PC, just to hang out for a bit,” Purple shrugged, “Apparently their creator got a new game and he thinks I’m going to like it.”
“He’s probably right, he knows you pretty well. Just… be careful, please?”
“Y’know, why don’t you bring the rest of this loaf with you? I know those other sticks really don’t have much experience with food that doesn’t come from video games. They’d probably really enjoy it. I can always bake more while you’re out,” He owed those kids a lot too, after all.
“That’s a great idea! Thanks, Baba!” Purple gave King a quick hug that the stick hadn’t expected before getting up to pack up the bread and head out.
“Have a good day with your friends! See you when you get home, have a great day.”
“You too. Enjoy baking bread!”
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