Jack sprinkled some cinnamon onto an oatcake. These things were a little bit tougher than oatmeal – you had to cut them with a knife – but they were downright tasty. One of Anna’s favourite breakfast meals. He added some sliced pears and strawberries. And for the finishing touch, a dab of maple syrup.
Standing at the counter, morning sunlight coming through his kitchen window, Jack smiled. “Perfect.”
He grabbed the plate and turned around just in time to find Anna in the doorway that led out to the living room. There she was in a pair of denim shorts and a white t-shirt with frills along the sleeves, her hair tied up in its customary ponytail with red strands framing her perfect face. “You’re up early!” she observed.
Grinning, Jack felt his eyebrows climbing. “Had a lot on my mind.” He
