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A Mother’s Day Surprise…
An R.L. Mathewson Chronicle
“Do it,” Matthew bit out, narrowing his eyes on him as he tried to stare him down, but since Jonathan had a good six inches on his little brother, he simply shoved Matthew away and focused his attention back on the book that he was trying to read.
“Go away,” he said when Matthew came right back and commenced with his glare.
“Are you really going to make me hurt you?” Jonathan asked around a yawn, already bored at the prospect of beating his little brother up.
“Are you going to help us?” Matthew countered, intensifying his glare.
“Then I guess the answer is yes,” Matthew said, not really sounding all that concerned about his impending wedgie, but that probably had something to do with Jonathan’s twin brother Sebastian standing behind him, adding his own glare into the mix.
“You need to do it,” Jessica said, folding her arms over her pink princess t-shirt as she tried to out-glare their brothers and force him to get off his ass and do something that he was morally opposed against. Well, that and for safety reasons, because once word got out what he could do, his life would be in jeopardy.
“No, I really don’t,” he said with a simple shake of his head as he did his best to find the spot where he’d left off, but his siblings weren’t having it.
“Do it,” Sebastian said firmly as he snatched the book out of his hands and tossed it aside.
Sighing heavily, Jonathan sat back against the headboard and gestured at the sad attempts that his siblings had done in their mother’s honor.
“Why can’t you just give her those?” he asked, gesturing from a wrinkled homemade card covered in glue to the plate of burnt toast that Matthew had placed on his end table.
“Because we love our mother too much to do this to her,” Sebastian said, taking a sip of the orange juice he’d hand squeezed for their mother and cringed.
“You know what will happen once they find out that we’ve been keeping this from them, don’t you?” he asked, wondering if his siblings really had any idea, or cared for that matter, what this was going to mean for him, for all of them.
“I don’t care,” Matthew bit out. “I’m sick of living a lie!”
“Me, too!” Jessica said with a mutinous little glare that had his lips twitching.
“You know what will happen when he finds out,” Jonathan groaned, shoving his blankets aside so that he could climb out of bed.
“You won’t be alone,” Sebastian said, with a reassuring smile that he wasn’t buying, but what choice did he have?
He couldn’t let them give their mother this garbage, he told himself as he look at the burnt remains and over glittered construction paper.
He just couldn’t.
Sighing, because he knew that he was going to regret this, he said, “Bring me my apron….”
“Oh….my…..God…..,” Zoe whispered softly, sounding at a loss for words as he sat there, glaring at the boy shifting nervously at the end of their bed, wringing a chef’s hat in his hands as he glanced anxiously from him to the tray overflowing with culinary masterpieces any man in his family would gladly kill to get his hands on.
“D-did you really make this?” Zoe asked, finally managing to look up from the stack of apple streusel pancakes that had sealed the boy’s fate.
“Yes,” Jonathan said, licking his lips nervously even as he gestured to the tray overflowing with all of Zoe’s favorites. “I wanted to make you something special for Mother’s Day.”
“It looks wonderful,” Zoe said in a daze as she glanced back down at the stack of pancakes.
Eyes narrowed, Trevor watched as Zoe picked up her fork and tried a bite of the delicious-looking concoction. When she moaned, “Oh, my God,” and closed her eyes as she blindly reached out and grabbed onto his arm, squeezing it without mercy as she struggled to work past the delicious flavors and sensations fighting for her attention.
“This is so good,” she moaned, taking another bite of pancakes as he shifted his attention to his son, who met his gaze with a resigned one of his own.
“I’ll be right back,” Trevor said, never taking his eyes off his son as he leaned over and kissed Zoe’s temple.
“Uh huh,” she said, not really caring, which was fine with him. It would give him more time with his son.
“Downstairs,” he said firmly before adding, “Now.”
Swallowing nervously, Jonathan nodded with a murmured, “Yes, sir.”
Dropping his gaze down to the chef’s hat that was of a mass of wrinkles now, Jonathan walked out of the room, Zoe’s moans of pleasure following them as they made their way to the kitchen where the three other traitors were all sitting around the kitchen table eating the delectable treats that Jonathan has somehow managed to create without him ever knowing.
“You made all of this?” Trevor demanded once the kitchen door closed behind him.
Jonathan swallowed nervously even as he nodded firmly. “Yes.”
“Who taught you?”
“No one. I got bored and started reading all those cookbooks that people kept giving mom,” Jonathan explained as his siblings continued to eat in utter bliss.
“I see,” Trevor murmured thoughtfully as his attention landed on a loaf of what appeared to be homemade banana bread. “And how long were you planning on keeping this from me?”
“Well, that depends,” Jonathan said, shifting nervously as Trevor reached for a slice of banana bread and nearly wept with pleasure at how moist and delicious it was.
“On whether or not you’re gonna use this against me when I get in trouble?” Jonathan admitted.
Trevor thought it over with a nod as he glanced at the large spread of food that his son managed to whip up in a matter of hours. “You think that if you get in trouble that I won’t allow you to cook as punishment,” he rightly guessed by the worried expression on Jonathan’s face.
“Yes,” Jonathan choked out.
With a chuckle, Trevor grabbed a plate and loaded it up with food. “That’s one thing that you’ll never have to worry about, Bradfords would consider that cruel and unusual punishment,” he explained as he sat down next to Sebastian.
“Told ya,” Sebastian said, not bothering to look up from his plate as he handed the syrup to Trevor.
Jonathan practically sagged with relief, that is until Trevor felt obligated to point out, “Of course, once Uncle Jared finds out that you’ve been hiding this from him…..,” he let his words trail off with a mock shudder that had all the color leeching from his son’s normally tanned face, deciding that was punishment enough for withholding such tasty treats from him.
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