As Howard finally succeeded in making a pancake, a glimmer of pride shone in his eyes. In that fleeting moment, I glimpsed Scott within him. While he may not be Scott's biological father, being his uncle was every bit as meaningful.
"You did it!" I cheered, sharing in his sense of accomplishment. He chuckled modestly, and we went on to complete the batch of pancakes together. I allowed him to take charge of decorating them with whipped cream and his preferred toppings. We settled at the kitchen island and savored our midnight pancakes. It was a simple joy, yet it was all I could ask for, all I could hope for.
My only wish was that we could do this more often, but with Howard, one couldn't predict when he might wake up one day and choose not to speak to me for an entire week. So, I watche
